


Repentance

by TheLastSonata



Series: The Dissonance Trilogy [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lesbian Character, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:30:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 212,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastSonata/pseuds/TheLastSonata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the beginning of a new age for you, isn't it? You sit upon a throne of bone and offal with a golden scepter in one hand and a sword in the other. You seek to rein in this world, to tame it like a wild beast. Will your reign bring about the peace you've longed for so desperately? Or will it rain once more, of blood and tears and bullets? Book Three of the Dissonance Trilogy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Raye pushed open the wooden door to the town's inn with aching arms. Life out here was tough, much tougher than he'd ever thought it would be. As much as he didn't like to admit it he'd had it easy in the city. Sure it was expensive and crowded, but he hadn't had to work for twelve hours every day of the week. He almost missed his lethargic existence.

Almost, but not quite. Though life on the very fringes of Vale's borders was difficult, it was all the more rewarding because of it. Every day he set down his tools knowing he'd achieved something. Something meaningful. Whether it was finishing the wall around the small town, or building a barn for the livestock that everyone relied upon.

Not to mention he liked out here. Surrounded by nothing but nature, green fields stretching from horizon to horizon, copses of towering trees, all manner of wildlife he'd previously only seen on a screen. Even the air was different. It was fresh, clean, invigorating. It filled his lungs and made him glad to be alive.

It would have been enough to make him stay out here even without the incentives the government of Vale offered. Virtually no taxes, grants to help with the relocation, even weapons. It had the intention of the kingdom to push the Grimm from its borders, and so far it was working.

There had always been villages and towns outside of the major cities, but there had never been a concerted effort to establish them. They formed when a group of people got tired off the oppressive life within a city's walls or found that the call of profit was worth the risk. As such, they had been scattered randomly, isolated and alone. Easy targets for the Grimm.

No longer. Over the last couple of years the strategy had changed. When a new location for a settlement had been selected hunters, and the Valesh and Atlesian militaries would move in. They purged the Grimm from the area, sending the remainder fleeing. It was then up to the new townsfolk to defend the territory. Chunk by chunk Councillor Ozpin was reclaiming the kingdom.

The gains made in such a short time really showed just how inept Vale's government had been. It took sacrifice yes ̶ ̶ Ozpin had introduced conscription just like Atlas, one of the few ways to avoid it was to sign up to the settlement program ̶ ̶ but it was worth it. The countryside nearer Vale was now almost entirely Grimm free. Under Ozpin's guidance the world was changing. It was no wonder he was so popular in the opinion polls.

He'd certainly have Raye's vote. Growing up Ozpin had been somewhat of a hero to him anyway. He'd always dreamed of being able to attend Beacon. Sadly it was a dream that had never come true, but now Ozpin had given him another chance to realise his desire. Even if he wasn't a hunter, what he was doing on the fringes of the country really mattered.

Raye entered the building that the town had been built around. An old inn. How old he didn't know, but Sill said at least two centuries. He should know seeing as he'd paid for the rights to it. Built of large stone blocks it had survived the test of time largely intact whereas the rest of whatever settlement it had been part of had failed. Only the odd lonely foundation remained.

It had taken a fair bit of work to make the inn habitable again ̶ ̶ it had needed a new roof and a number of the wooden support beams replaced ̶ ̶ they'd all been happy to help though. Not only was the sense of community spirit brimming, but the inn was the heart of their town. It was where they all went to relax and socialise after a hard day's work.

The warmth, the smell of food, and the hubbub of conversation hit Raye as soon as the door opened. Sill was a fantastic cook, preferring a wood burning stove to a Dust-powered one. It made all the difference. The meals he produced just tasted of the countryside.

The chatter died momentarily as everyone turned to the newcomer before continuing. There were perhaps twenty people already there. His friends were sitting around their favourite table and he nodded to them before heading to the bar.

"The usual Sill. And today's soup if it's not too much trouble?"

Sill grunted. He wasn't one for vocalising words which weren't needed. Raye had been here long enough to know it was an affirmative. Sill ducked down behind the counter before coming up with a clay mug and a small dark bottle.

Sill was a traditionalist when it came to barkeeping, but Raye wasn't about to complain. Sill knew his stuff. The small bottle was part of his latest batch of micro-brew and it was pretty much liquid ambrosia. After a long day of graft Raye might have killed to have a cold mug of ale, but the one time he'd suggested it Sill had looked at him like he was a piece of dirt on the bottom of his boots. It was somewhat a rite of passage for anyone at the inn, they all asked once, no one asked twice. As he'd said, Sill was a traditionalist; ale should be served warm.

With mug in hand, he headed towards the empty seat at his friends' table. It was in essentially the perfect position. Close enough to the roaring fireplace to stay toasty, but not too close. His friends weren't like those he'd left behind. They ranged from the silver-haired Flae right down to those nearer his own age. They were good people though, and they erupted into laughter as Rob finished an anecdote.

It was only when he was near did he spot something out of the corner of his eye. Someone was sitting in the far corner of the inn, the shadows almost consuming them. If not for a burst of sparks as one of the logs in the fire shifted he likely wouldn't have seen them at all. They were wearing a dark cloak, still drawn up to hide their face and nursing a mug in their hands.

Raye was sure he didn't know them. He knew everyone in the town and not one of them would have been sitting like that. They were a stranger and that was unusual. There was no through traffic; they were at the very borders of the country. Beyond them was nothing but a Grimm infested wasteland. So who were they?

Raye only realised he was staring when the hood turned to him. A shiver ran down his spine. Even if he couldn't see the person's face there was real power in the gaze. He didn't know how he knew, but the stranger was dangerous. Unsettlingly dangerous.

He dragged his eyes away and hurried to his normal seat, resisting the urge to check that the stranger was still in the corner and not sneaking up behind him.

"Hey Raye. Good day?" Rob asked.

He ignored the question and flicked his eyes towards the corner. "Do you know who that is?"

To his horror half the group turned to look quite blatantly towards the stranger. There was something wrong here that set his nerves tingling.

"No. They just came in, paid for a mug without speaking, and sat in the corner. Why?"

"I… I don't know. Something… doesn't feel right," he said finally. The words were enough to cause the others to burst into raucous laughter.

"Something's certainly got you worked up." Flae's tone carried a mix of kindness and jest. "They're probably just a courier. Rufus wouldn't have let them in the town if he didn't trust them. You know how he is." Raye did; Rufus was the sheriff and leader of the town's militia. "They're not doing anyone any harm; they just want to be left alone. So ignore them."

It was sound advice, though even with it in mind Raye couldn't help but glance over again. The stranger still watched them. Watched him.

The arrival of his meal allowed some measure of distraction, but even with the heady blend of vegetables and spices his unease remained. The conversation at the table largely passed him by. He'd never had much interest in politics; the dealings in Atlas or the increasing tensions in Vacuo just flew straight past him. It had been to his undoing.

Politics affected every single facet of everyone's life. Ultimately, the awful situations the world had found itself suffering through in the past few years boiled down to the decisions made and ratified in Council chambers around the world. Raye had tried to ignore politics, but politics hadn't been so kind to him.

His mind was made up now though. Whenever Councillor Ozpin decided it was safe enough to lift the state of emergency and hold an election, Raye would be putting a tick in his box. The video footage of the liberation of Vale had been horrific, but in retrospect most agreed it had been necessary. After everything that they'd done the White Fang would never have given up. Never have surrendered. The only option had been to make sure that they were unable to hurt anyone else.

It must have been the hardest decision Ozpin had ever had to make, but he'd had the strength to make the one that no one else would have. It was strength that the world really needed in its leader. For too long they'd been saddled with useless politicians. Ozpin wasn't one. First and foremost he was a hunter; he understood what the situation was like outside of the city walls. He was a man of the people.

The departure of Raye's second mug was likely the main reason behind why his head felt lighter than usual; Sill's micro-brews were as heavenly as they were strong. Raye risked another glance towards the stranger. They were still there, though were now just staring into their own ale. In his slight inebriation he was just glad that they turned their attention away from him.

The alcohol gave him the courage to revisit the topic of conversation that the rest had put to bed. "Do you think they're a criminal?"

It took the others a few second to catch onto his meaning. Once again they laughed at him, only spurred on by drinking, the volume and duration was increased.

"No," Rob said when he'd got his breath back. "Do you really think they'd be hanging around in the open like this? You know how effective the authorities are these days. They don't have the chance to stop running until they're over the border." The others muttered their own resentment ̶ ̶ Vacuo was becoming somewhat of a safe haven for those who'd broken the law.

"Well what if they're a hunter?" No matter what the others said Raye knew the stranger was dangerous.

Again Rob shook his head. "Why would they have been given a contract all the way out here? We certainly haven't submitted a request to the system. We've no need. We can handle whatever comes our way. Right everyone?" Rob raised his voice and almost the entire inn cheered. Out here towns were proud of their self-sufficiency.

Raye half-heartedly raised his own mug. He'd been in Vale on the day it had initially fallen to the White Fang. He knew that there were some things that even the most prepared were unable to stop.

The stranger barely reacted to the sudden increase in volume; they were utterly consumed by whatever they were seeing at the bottom of their mug. The lack of reaction caused a new half-chilling, half-thrilling thought into his mind.

He leaned in close and whispered; not even sure if it would stop the stranger hearing. "What if they're a Tinman?" Even saying the name caused him to shiver.

This time there was no outburst of mirth, instead all of his friends considered it and just what it would mean. Tinmen had somehow achieved the status of myths even though there was video evidence corroborating their existence.

They were elusive enough that few ever saw them, and many who did didn't live to pass on the tale. Their targets were far more dangerous than Grimm. They brought justice to those who had decided to turn against society itself, but were unable to be caught by conventional means. They hunted the rogue hunters who had forsaken their vows to fight for good and now stood upon the side of evil. The Tinmen were the ultimate enforcers of the law.

It took a while before Flae spoke up. "Nope. Can't be. Tinmen can't drink. Don't have stomachs."

The certainty of the statement relieved much of the sudden tension that had gathered around the table. None of them really wanted to see a Tinman in the flesh. A fight between them and a hunter could level a town, but in the end there was only ever one winner.

"Why are you so worked up about them anyway?" Rob asked nodding his head towards the stranger. Raye couldn't answer, just like he hadn't been able to earlier. "Perhaps you're hoping there's a pretty girl under that hood?" Rob grinned as Raye's cheeks grew red. That hadn't been on his mind. "Why don't I go and ask for you. It's a fifty-fifty chance."

Rob even stood up before Raye began protesting. "Don't you fu ̶ ̶ "

An alarm ripped through the general conversation of the inn. One which sent all their hearts racing. Harsh and electronic, it clashed horribly with the rustic nature of the town. The noise was entirely out of place and impossible to ignore, not that anyone would have tried; they all knew what the alarm signified. The Grimm sensors had been tripped.

It only took a few brief seconds of shock before the entire inn erupted into movement. They'd suffered through too many drills at all times of the day and night for them not to know what their exact roles were. Everyone in the town had one; even the children were tasked with running messages and supplies. They all had their part to play.

Raye jumped up, knocking his stall over in his haste, and joined the throng crowding at the door. No matter how many times he heard it the alarm always chilled his blood. It was identical in timbre to Vale's. One which had echoed out a warning every time the Grimm had breached the city's walls. One which almost invariably heralded mourning.

It was his hope that it wouldn't here. Unlike the majority of the citizens of Vale they were trained, they were prepared to face the Grimm head on. Even if some part of him was cowering in panic, he wouldn't, not when others were relying on him.

Raye skidded to a halt near the racks at the town centre that held the majority of the supplies the Valesh government had gifted them. Raye donned a composite cuirass and helmet before turning to the weapons. The Atlesian-made assault rifles were suitable for at least deterring the majority of the Grimm; pulling one off its hook Raye instinctively checked the safety and the chamber before sliding a fresh magazine home.

With its reassuring weight in his hands Raye ran off towards his position on the wall. Short of his dreams of becoming a hunter, he'd never really wanted to fight. He just wasn't cut out for it. That much had proven true when Vale fell; he'd spent most of the day cowering and the weeks after reliving the nightmare. That was what had ultimately pushed him to sign up to the settlement program and after working so hard he'd be damned if he was going to let anything take it away from him.

The wall around the town wasn't as impressive as it could have been. It didn't seem to stretch into the heavens as Vale's had, but then this was one they'd built with their bare hands. They'd cut down every tree within a hundred yards and used the trunks to build a palisade. Once they'd managed to save up enough they were planning on hiring someone to coat the entire thing in rock Dust. That would likely be far in the future though, at the moment it was just wood.

Wood that, if the Grimm were allowed to get close enough, could be easily broken through. That was why their entire defensive strategy was designed around ensuring that the Grimm never managed to reach the wall. At range Raye had the advantage, without it he knew he didn't.

The top of the battlements were already rife with people, most armed similarly, some bearing heavier or more unconventional weapons. Ultimately their objective wasn't to kill the Grimm, only to make sure they could do no damage. If it was possible to drive them off without sustaining a casualty most would take that option.

Raye squeezed his way to the designated position and peered out. Twilight had fallen and long shadows stretched out from the distant treeline. Lamenting that he didn't have night-vision goggles he tried to pick out the red glow of an eye in the undergrowth. His efforts were unsuccessful. He traded nervous glances with his neighbours, but none of them had seen anything either.

One of them had even set their rifle down. Resigned to waiting Raye did likewise. The outermost sensors were a significant distance from the town. Far enough that the defences would be able to be organised even if the Grimm were approaching at a sprint. Tonight it didn't seem as if they were. It was even possible that the Grimm hadn't actually been heading for the town and would miss it entirely.

No one's nerves managed to return to normal; everyone jumped when a bird flew from the nearest tree. But as more minutes passed without any further alert and even the alarm was turned off, Raye's heartbeat began to slow.

The stairs rocked as someone ran up them and came to a halt, her cheeks blowing in and out. "Everyone listen up. Rufus wants every fourth person to stay here, while everyone else heads to western side of the wall. Pass the message along and run." Dibellia called over her shoulder as she tore off to her next destination.

Her message had not been encouraging. Raye could see his expression mirrored on everyone else's. Just what was approaching the south side of the town if the rest of the wall was to be left virtually undefended?

"You heard her," Flae shouted. "Count yourself off and get over there quickly."

As soon as Raye got number three he joined the others descending the stairs. Despite all the other running people, the streets were almost eerily deserted as he sprinted through them. Normally a few kids would be playing in them, those with early starts would be making their way home, and those just finishing would be enjoying themselves. Now none of that was happening. With most of the lights extinguished to prevent fires, the streets were unwelcoming and cold.

Raye heard Rufus long before he saw him. Rufus bellowed out instructions in his best imitation of a parade sergeant, marshalling everyone so they were able to follow the revised plan. The top of the southern wall was almost full to bursting. Its defenders two deep around the battlements, half were crouching down as the other half prepared to fire over their heads.

Raye pushed himself up onto his tiptoes to try and get a better view of what they were aiming at only for his stomach to drop away. Earlier he had struggled to find a pair of red eyes in the undergrowth, now there was a sea of them. No wonder Rufus had wanted reinforcements over here; even with them they would likely be outnumbered.

Ultimately he must know the truth as surely as Raye did. With a miracle they might well be able to fight off a horde that large, but they would take casualties. Significant casualties. Raye suddenly felt the cold grip of his own mortality. He couldn't help but wish for a hunter to save him just like one had in Vale.

* * *

 

Ruby swirled the last dregs of ale around the bottom of her mug. The dark liquid left bubbles of froth in its wake before swallowing them back up as the wave came around again. It was a fitting metaphor for life. Everything accomplished was eventually swept away.

The clay mug cracked as it slammed into the table top. Ruby released her hold on the handle. She hadn't meant that. She wasn't drunk. Some things just made her so angry.

She started to take deep breaths. In for four seconds, hold it for six, and then out for eight. As it had done in what almost seemed another lifetime the technique helped. Not by a lot, but it was something. It stemmed the tears that so often followed on anger's heels.

She pushed her chair back and stood with a resolution on her mind. She was meant to be celebrating. Normally she avoided any trace of civilization, especially in Vale, it was simply too dangerous for her. It had been her intention to skirt this town, but the date had stopped her in the act. Unless she was wrong, which she very well could be, it was her birthday.

Her eighteenth birthday to be exact. Surely that was worth a little risk? A quiet drink. Some hot food. A silent toast. A tribute to what she'd once had. She deserved that after everything.

Ruby strode to the bar. In their hasty response to the alarm the patrons and the barman had completely overlooked her. She preferred it this way. After so long spent alone their concerned concentration had grated on her nerves. They were really sheep. Like so many they had no idea just what was happening to the world.

She leant behind the counter and picked a bottle of ale from the shelf. Twisting off the lid Ruby took a long swallow. In all honesty she still wasn't sure about alcohol. No matter what form she'd tried it in she always had to force herself through the first few glasses. Right up until the magical point where her problems began to melt. After that it was much easier to keep on drinking. Even the hangovers were worth it.

Ruby sat on the stall by the bar and tipped the bottle back once more. With her head tilted she examined the beams near the ceiling. They'd been intricately carved with tiny figures and patterns. Like the rest of the inn, and the town, it was clear that its population had put a lot of work into establishing it.

And now they were fighting for its continued existence. Ruby recognised those alarms; they had played parts of her nightmares for far too long. The Grimm were attacking and it was a hunter's place to stand against them.

It was just a good thing she wasn't a hunter anymore. They'd told her she couldn't be. They'd ripped up her licence in front of her while almost everyone else scorned her. She'd finally thought she'd found the meaning in her life again when Ozpin put out the call for all hunters to return to Vale. Even those like her, who hadn't graduated Beacon, were to be granted full licences. She might have hated what he'd done, but as a hunter she could do good. That dream was worth the colossal risk.

She'd had made it back to the city, back to the square in front of the Eburnean House. That had almost been a step too far. At the end of the war it had been a mistake tuning into the first broadcast from Vale in months. Where she'd expected celebration and relief, she'd instead witnessed a mass execution on a scale that made anything in her life pale by comparison. Thousands had died and yet there was no sign. The streets had been clean; the square completely purged of blood. It was almost as if the White Fang hadn't existed. She was sure that was the way that Ozpin had wanted it.

She'd stood in that too clean square while the words that had should have been so familiar to her were displayed on a screen. Only they weren't. The changes were minor, but significant. Instead of swearing loyalty to the people, it was to the government. In a conflict hunters were required to join the side of Vale, not good as they had originally been intended.

It was wrong. She'd recited the vow when starting at Signal and when graduating, and then again at the start of Beacon. At those times she'd been close to bursting with pride. The simple words had meant everything to her. They were the guidelines of how she was meant to live her life. To protect the weak, to fight for the side of good, essentially… to be a hero. Now they wouldn't.

Most either hadn't noticed or didn't care. She did. The vow meant that she was condoning what had been done to reclaim the city, even promising to carry out something similar if ordered. That just wasn't something she would ever be prepared to do. Along with several others ̶ ̶ mostly older hunters who were being forced to recommit themselves to the vow ̶ ̶ she'd left the square. Left behind the cheers of those who'd just signed away their souls.

She hadn't made it far. The exits had been blocked by troops and hunters bearing Vale's flag on their clothes. A bureaucrat had asked her what the problem was, and when she hadn't answered, asked to see her provisional licence. After that all it took was a few sure movements of his fingers for her dream of becoming a huntress to fall in pieces to the street. He'd even had the gall to inform her that if she carried a weapon in public she'd be arrested.

She'd left Vale the very same day donning her slender pack and boarding a boat for Patch with cash that was steadily running out. It had been her hope to find someone at Signal. Her uncle or dad, Yang. Just one of her friends or someone who knew something of them, but no one did. If they'd survived the occupation they hadn't surfaced yet. She'd spent one night in her old bedroom and left a note before moving on.

It had been her intention to carry out the duties of a huntress even if she wasn't officially one. No one got to take that away from her. On the fringes of Vale they hadn't cared that she didn't have a licence. She hadn't been happy, not even close, she'd been hurting too much, but just like before she'd been on the path to recovery. And then even that solace had been stolen from her.

So it was with an almost clean conscience that Ruby could say that if all these people who had been in the inn needed help, they should call for a hunter. An official one. Not a fraud like her. Every time she tried to help it just put her in more danger. Defending the town might have been the honourable thing to do, but these days it didn't matter. Honour was dead. So why should she bother?

Unfortunately, she knew the answer and it wasn't one she found at the bottom of her bottle. She should bother because it was right. People out there were in danger. Innocent people. They hadn't done anything wrong. Ultimately she should bother, simply because she was there.

It was an answer that came from the very centre of her heart, the place where her parents had attempted to instil their own values. She didn't have many memories of them together ̶ ̶ in truth she didn't know if she had any at all, they might have just been conjured by her imagination from photos ̶ ̶ but she saw her parents now. She knew what they expected her to do. What she needed to do.

Ruby placed her almost empty bottle on the bar, drew her hood back over her head and strode towards the howls.

* * *

 

To put it lightly Raye was shitting himself. Thankfully his underwear was currently unsoiled, but he could feel his bowels attempting to change that. He would have been ok if the Grimm had just rushed them. Instead they must have spent ten minutes or more howling and all the while more were turning up.

The courage had visually drained from everyone around him. If it had just been the howls of Beowolves it would have been ok. That would have meant a pack had found their town; dangerous, but they could have fought them off. When various types of Grimm put aside their differences they only had one thing on their mind. Hatred.

Raye hadn't even been able to count them all in the lengthening shadows. There were more Beowolves, but then there usually were, a few Ursai had joined the group, and someone had even claimed they'd spotted a Nevermore. Their town was well defended, but not for an assault of this scale.

The Grimm had been driven out of their territory and almost driven mad by hunger. There wasn't another settlement for a hundred miles in any direction; this was their last chance to sate themselves, and Raye knew they would.

A gun went off as someone's finger shook. "Watch what you're doing!" Rufus roared over the howls. "Not until I say so." Their militia commander had not lost his nerve, and Raye was relieved that he'd resisted the reflexive urge to pull his own trigger. No matter what his body was telling him the Grimm were still beyond the effective range of his rifle.

The Grimm prowled back and forth, working themselves up into a frenzy, but it had at least allowed for some of the heavier weapons to be moved from their fixed positions. The MGs and grenade launchers had an almost comforting profile against the wall. Though the Valesh government had not allowed them access to the highest grade of military weaponry, the ones they had supplied were certainly potent. Even so Raye still knew they wouldn't be enough to stop the Grimm crossing the killing fields.

"Everyone hold until I say. We've trained for this. We'll drive them off as long as we stick to the plan." Rufus tried to inject some steel into those under his command. The words didn't help Raye much; he'd never felt more like a simple builder than he did at this precise moment. "Who the hell are you?"

Raye glanced round at Rufus' words. The town's sheriff stared towards a newcomer to the battlement. It was the stranger, still shrouded entirely by their cowl. If they were intimidated by Rufus' tone or the revealed sight of the Grimm they didn't show it. Instead they stood stock still. Unnaturally still. The breeze didn't even ruffle the dark material of their cloak.

Entirely ignoring Rufus, the stranger took a step forward and slipped through the crowd until they stood next to the edge of the wall. Raye might not have been able to see anything of their body, but he could still almost sense the anger rolling from the stranger as they observed the Grimm. There was still no doubt in his mind that the person was still dangerous, but at the moment all of their ire seemed to be directed at the monsters outside of the city.

Smoothly the stranger jumped from the battlements. It took Raye a heartbeat to recover from his shock before he joined everyone else in leaning over. The wall wasn't tall, not by any real standards, but it was still tall enough that most would have to be seriously intoxicated to consider leaping from it for a bet. Raye knew he would have sprained something at best, but the stranger hadn't even rolled as they landed; they'd barely bent their knees.

With deliberate slowness they walked towards the Grimm. One step at a time their cloak trailing on the tips of the grass. There was no hesitation, no fear, nothing to show that they were walking upon a field of nightmares.

The howling ceased. Red eyes turned on the solitary figure approaching them. Hackles raised, teeth bared. The stranger stopped two dozen feet away from the nearest. A pregnant silence fell.

An Ursa Major pushed its way through the pack of Beowolves and reared up on its hind legs. It was a challenge the stranger didn't respond to. They just continued to stand there as if entirely unconcerned, or entirely mad. Raye wasn't quite sure which one applied anymore.

Raye sensed that they were dangerous though. They were facing down monsters without a weapon. He'd guessed what they were now. Silhouetted against the setting sun, in their dark cloak, the hunter appeared a manifestation of death itself.

The silence that had descended over the entire scene shattered in an instant. The Ursa gave a bellowing roar and dropped to all four closing on the stranger with horrific speed. The hunter vanished.

That was how it appeared to Raye. One moment they'd been standing there with a Grimm charging towards them, the next they were gone. The Ursa's bulk slammed into the ground instants later, gore rushing from the cut along its side.

The figure stood beyond. Entirely immobile and surrounded by Grimm. A weapon rested on their shoulder. Orange sunlight glinted off the blade of a great scythe. It was almost as long as the hunter was tall. Crimson dripped from it.

No one on the wall spoke. Could speak. The clash had happened faster than any of them were able to see. One moment the hunter had been standing there, the next the Ursa was lying mutilated. A Grimm that would have tested all of their carefully prepared defences was cast aside like a child's toy.

A Beowolf leapt forwards and, emboldened, some of its packmates joined it. This time Raye managed to catch the conflict, but only just; the hunter was still little more than a blur.

The instant before the first Grimm was in range the hunter leapt to the attack. The scythe flashed straight through the Beowolf's torso. Carrying their momentum the figure spun taking a head before bringing the point of their weapon straight down on third's spine. He couldn't believe that anyone was able to move that fast. It was just inhuman.

The hunter didn't allow for a cessation of hostilities. They darted at the next group of Grimm, passing through it in a heartbeat, leaving blood and agony erupting in their wake. The combat was just so different from anything Raye had witnessed before.

When the town was being established there had been a few hunters based in it. He'd even watched them fight from afar. They'd been effective sure, but their display had also instilled a belief in the townsfolk that with a little preparation they would be able to defend their homes just as well. Those hunters didn't hold a candle to the one in front of him. As more body parts leapt into the air it appeared as if the solitary hunter intended to kill the entire horde single-handedly.

Rufus wasn't content to let them. After recovering from his own shock he began to bellow orders. Concentrating on the dark blur that was devastating their ranks some of the Grimm had ventured into range. "Fire on those nearest! Heavies start targeting the flanks! Make sure you don't shoot anywhere near that hunter. Just let them do their job."

The nerves Raye had been feeling had almost entirely melted away. His fingers were steady as he disengaged the safety. His training took over, sighting along the length of rifle he waited until it settled on the centre-mass of a smaller Beowolf before pulling the trigger. The rifle bucked and the Grimm jumped.

He'd missed, but he hadn't really expected to hit, not from this distance against a moving target. He steadied his aim before firing again. Others had joined him. More puffs of dust erupted from around the Beowolf and a few of the bullets hit home. They didn't do much damage, but the distraction relieved some pressure on the hunter.

Not that they needed it. They still hadn't stopped, hadn't even slowed down, and Grimm continued to fall. Close to a third of the Grimm were down and the first few began to lose their will. They may have been monsters, but when they weren't in the grips of a true blood-frenzy, they could think. It was what always allowed them to pick out the weakest possible target and at this moment the hunter just wasn't even close.

Some of the runts, those that would have only had a meal when the rest were done, fled. The hunter let them go, she—judging by the dark ponytail flapping behind they were likely a she—turned her attention towards the Grimm who appeared to have the strongest will to hold. She broke it, completely and utterly. There was only so many times that even the most ravenous monster could watch as its packmates were cut down. The hunter seemed just as content to maim as she was to kill. The agony of the dying roared out over the field.

A shape swooped down from above. The illusive Nevermore had returned. Out of all the Grimm Raye had seen, Nevermores were the ones he feared most. Just the knowledge that even behind walls you weren't safe was bad enough, but they were nightmarish in their very appearance. The feathers blacker than night, the angular beak and claws that could splinter bone. And the eyes. The red eyes. One of his worst memories was of being on a school trip and the forest practically glowing red around them.

It was their size as well. Though this one perhaps wasn't as large as it could have been, its wings still would have stretched from one side of his house to the other and with length to spare. It cawed as it plummeted, a sharp note that drilled into his very ears. In the midst of another group of Grimm the hunter may well have missed the danger if not for the sound. The Nevermore pulled up at the last second, scattering the ranks of Grimm with its claws.

There was such a disparity of power. Beowolves and even some Ursai were flung aside by the swooping attack. The flaps of the Nevermores wings ripped tufts of grass from the ground as it gained altitude.

Raye strained his eyes in an attempt to see whether the hunter had managed to evade the claws. His heart sank along with everyone else's when he failed to spot a figure dressed in grey amongst the recovering silhouettes. Raye didn't want to abandon the fortifications— it was perhaps even stupid to consider it —but the hunter had put herself at risk for all of them. If she was down there injured he wanted to try and help.

It was an intention shared by everyone around him. They'd built this town on the steadfast principle of community. When the situation required it they all came together as one. The hunter might not have been part of their community, she might only have been passing through, but in the end it didn't matter. She'd bled for the town; she'd managed to cull enough Grimm for the horde to be a more than manageable one.

A scream came from the sky. The Nevermore screeched and it was not one of triumph. Broken feathers tumbled from its left wing, one after another as if its limb was being sawed away. It flapped madly, diving and pirouetting, but it couldn't dislodge the figure on its back.

The hunter hung on, using the birds own agony-induced spasms against it. Every pained flap caused the scythe to dig just a little deeper into the muscle and each time it did the hunter gained extra purchase.

There might still have been Grimm on the ground, but no one could tear their eyes away from the fight in the sky. With grim determination the hunter continued to cut. It was crazy; she was relying on the bird's ability to fly just as much as the Grimm, but she had a death wish.

It all happened suddenly. There was snap that was audible on the ground, the Nevermore gave its loudest cry of pain, and the wing tore itself free. It might have been made of feathers, but it plummeted to the ground. The bird didn't fare much better. It corkscrewed downwards, showering the area below with gouts of blood, and through it all the hunter hung on.

They landed hard. Raye could have sworn that he felt the impact. The Nevermore still managed to stir; breathing raggedly in and out it was clearly hurt but alive. The few remaining Grimm edged closer.

The hunter staggered upright. She'd been sheltered from the worst of the impact by the bird's bulk. With a limp she climbed onto the Nevermore's still struggling torso and stood tall for all to see. The scythe flashed down and the bird's head tumbled clear.

It was a decisive moment. As the remaining Grimm watched the oldest and most powerful of them die, as so many had died today, they paused. The hunter stared them down, victorious and unafraid. Rufus sensed they were on the point of breaking.

"Shoot them!" he shouted raising his own rifle.

The gunfire scattered them. They fled for their lives, and the weight of the world lifted from Raye's shoulders. He wasn't dead. He breathed in and the normally crisp air seemed a thousand times sharper. All of his senses tingled with vibrancy. Gently he placed his rifle on the floor with shaking hands.

The sunset was utterly beautiful. The laughter from the wall was infectious and he added his mirth to it. He just couldn't get over the fact that they were alive, all without sustaining a casualty. All thanks to her.

The hunter slowly made her way back towards them. They might have been celebrating, but she was better trained than that. With deliberate cautiousness she prowled the battlefield finishing off any Grimm that might still have been able to trouble them.

Her duties as an executioner couldn't last forever however, and her circuit eventually brought her towards the town. The noise of her ovation rolled out across the killing fields and chased the fleeing Grimm.

The hunter froze mid-step, looking up at all of those who were cheering for her. She should have been used to it, but didn't seem to be. She tugged her cloak tighter around herself and almost appeared as if contemplating raising the hood. Her reaction robbed the townsfolk of much of their enthusiasm.

This was their hero, their saviour. She'd killed an entire horde of Grimm by herself; ridden a Nevermore down from the sky. She should have been someone they could admire. She should have basked in their adulation and returned it in kind. She didn't do any of that. Instead she just appeared tired and wishing she was anywhere else.

The hunter jumped. After everything it shouldn't have been surprising to see her leap over a dozen feet into the air. It still was though. The wind rose as she landed and a space opened up around her.

Raye was one of those who stumbled back. She was young; even younger than he was. And she was pretty, really pretty. Even covered in grime, blood, and who knew what else, her appearance struck a chord in his heart. Her eyes drew him in. They were huge and the most striking colour he'd ever seen. It was in that moment that he fell in love.

The girl didn't though; she avoided meeting his gaze, all of their gazes. If those crowding around her expected her to make a speech they were sorely disappointed. Without another word she pushed her way through them and descended from the wall.

* * *

 

Ruby woke an instant before the grenades went off. It was the gentle clinks of the pins being withdrawn that had done it. In the past couple of years she'd learned the art of sleeping lightly the hard way.

It was just unfortunate she hadn't been able to resist the lure of a bed. A real bed. One with actual springs and padding. She'd forgotten what it was like to sleep on anything other than hard dirt. It was so nice. Nice enough that after her bath the strains of the fight had seemed to melt away as she fell into unconsciousness.

She wished she hadn't now. With the heartbeat she had left she buried her head in her quilt. The concussive thump blew through the room, pounding her eardrums at the same time a flash illuminated the inside of her eyelids.

She didn't have time to recover. Fully dressed she leapt from the bed, relieved she hadn't been stupid enough to try and go to sleep in her underwear. There were two figures by the door, bent over and coughing out smoke.

They were lucky. The grenades very well could have been of the lethal variety rather than the stun. She'd planted them on the door frame and set up a simple tripwire to ensure that no one snuck up on her. The two of them hadn't managed it, but they had caught up with her. That was almost worse. The decision to first help the townsfolk and then to accept their hospitality was coming back to bite her.

Disorientated as they were she could have fought them, but she couldn't risk it. Not when she didn't know how many others there were. Despite the white star still covering most of her vision, she managed to locate her pack. It was small, suitable for the road, and contained some of the most treasured possessions she had left. There was no way she could leave it. Her cloak was strapped to it.

Ruby wished it was  _her_  cloak though. The one her mum had given her. It would have brought her so much peace to wrap herself in it once more. She couldn't though. A strange person wearing a dark cloak was forgettable. One in bright red much less so.

Crescent Rose wasn't hard to find; it was barely more than an arm's reach away at all times. She even slept with it in her blankets. After her first rude awakening she'd learnt her lesson. With all of her possessions on her body, she left the room at a sprint.

Glass showered the street below the inn as a body crashed through the window. Ruby managed to land on her feet and took a moment to get her bearings. She needed to head west, but then they'd probably have been expecting that. As the two figures appeared in the ruined window she took off south.

It was hard going. The muscles in her legs began to cramp well before they should have and her breath caught in her chest. She'd been stupid. She never should have tried to kill all the Grimm by herself. Her body was suffering for it now. A few hours sleep just wasn't enough to recharge a spent Aura.

In the dead of night the streets were deserted, lonely lamps on the corners provided scant pools of illumination. If not for the nearly full moon it would have been close to pitch black. It was a shame; she could have used that. As it was if she could see where she was going, her pursuers could see her.

She couldn't afford to try and leave through a gate. Gaining the top of the wall she risked a look back. The two of them were hot on her heels. She didn't want to fight them, but they'd chased her this far. If she was unable to lose them it might be necessary. They wouldn't give up, not when she was their target.

The jump from the wall was harder than it should have been. Her Semblance was sluggish to respond to her call. She managed to roll on her shoulder even with the burden of the backpack and continued on. She didn't sprint, it only would have tired her out, instead she ran in a mile-consuming lope.

The plains all around were not her ally. Give her a thick forest and she could have lost them in minutes; surrounded by almost flat grassland it would be far more difficult. It might have been a hindrance to her escape, but in the white light of the moon the landscape was chillingly beautiful. It was easy to see why so many had taken up  _Councillor_ Ozpin's offer.

A bark carried across the terrain.  _Great,_  Ruby resisted the urge to swear. They had a dog. Her options shrank dramatically. As she had with so many of her other choices today, Ruby lamented her decision to treat herself with a bath. It had been her first in weeks, and she hadn't gone easy with the lotions. The fragrance of her skin would linger in the air for hours.

Short of finding a stream or a river the dog wouldn't lose her scent. Her luck was just about running out. Near the border most of the water was subterranean; the towns out here relied on deep wells for their supply.

Ruby made a decision. It perhaps wasn't a smart one, but it was the only option that felt open with her. Eventually they would catch up with her again. It was better to meet them on her terms. Shrugging off her pack she rooted through its contents. There wasn't much left in the way of supplies.

She'd never realised how hard it was to get munitions ̶ ̶ especially ones of Crescent Rose's calibre ̶ ̶ without a hunter's licence. Before all she'd had to do was fill in a form or visit a shop. Now such an easy route wasn't open to her. She was almost out of ammo for Crescent Rose, it hadn't been worth wasting on the Grimm earlier, but she'd need it now.

The three remaining grenades were still in the same box that the two from earlier had come from. Stun weapons were legal for those without a licence, but she wished the shopkeeper had been willing to bend the rules.

She never would have mined her door with true explosives out of fear that a civilian might have triggered them. The moonstruck boy who'd been staring at her all evening might very well have ignored her intention to be left alone. But against hunters stun weapons were of limited use. They would buy her a few seconds; that was all.

After preparing the area around her she sat down in the lotus position. Meditation had never been her thing before, she fidgeted far too much, but those days were long past. Focussed on her breathing, with her eyes closed, she prepared for what was coming.

The barks caused her eyebrow to twitch as they grew closer. Her trackers really hadn't been far behind. Ruby could almost sense them on the air as they stopped at the periphery of her preparations. Three, plus the dog, it could be worse. She knew why they stopped. She was their quarry. They expected her to be running, to be terrified for their life, not meditating peacefully beneath the moon.

"I suppose you're here to take me in?" Ruby asked without opening her eyes. "Do you know what I just did for that town?"

"It doesn't change anything." Ruby identified where their leader was standing.

"Does it not? What was the first line of your hunter's vow?" After spending so long in Atlesian high society verbal sparring came easily to her. None of them answered. " _I swear to stand against evil wherever I may find it._  At this moment are you standing against evil or with it?"

"It doesn't matter. I respect you for what you did back there. We would have done the same if we arrived a few hours earlier, even if it meant your trail going cold. But you're breaking the law."

Ruby resisted the urge to grimace. He didn't seem like a bad man. He'd probably held his hunter's vow, his true one, for decades before making the new oath. He was at least speaking the truth. She was breaking the law.

At the start she simply hadn't been allowed to bear weapons inside cities, but that hadn't lasted. As Vale began to recover from its liberation its population wanted assurance that nothing similar would ever happen again.

The way to achieve that was the removal of any rogue elements. Gradually popular opinion turned against the true hunters who hadn't sworn themselves to the state. Legislation came not long after. They were too dangerous to be allowed to roam without oversight. Those of hunter level skill had to swear the oath or face imprisonment until they did.

The people, those whom they'd defended for so long, preferred it that way. They liked the accountability of the state-controlled hunters. To know just what they were getting when the requested assistance. With alarming speed, Ruby had found herself an outlaw in her homeland. All for remaining true to herself.

"Perhaps I am," Ruby agreed. "But I'm not doing anyone any harm. How many would have died back there without my assistance?" She knew she wouldn't win them around. Like far too many these days they had their orders and would follow them to the letter. She was just buying herself time to recover.

"As I said you did a good thing. It doesn't change the fact that you're a criminal."

"If your friend takes another step to the left he won't like the consequences." The threat was delivered in the same calm voice. That she knew he'd been trying to flank her gave them pause for thought. Undoubtedly they had a file which listed her Semblance, and it wasn't being able to see with her eyes closed. "I take it there is nothing I can say which will convince you leave here."

"No." The answer was resolute. The path was set in stone.

"Very well. Then I have just one last question to ask you. Would you, even the three of you, have been able to kill that horde of Grimm by yourselves?" She rose to her feet fluidly and opened her eyes. "Because I did. Think about that."

They were three older hunters as she'd thought, experienced ones, but her question caused them to glance at each other. They'd likely been briefed about her skills, but seeing the results of them was another thing entirely. Her modesty had long since been left in the dirt like so many of her emotions; she knew how good she was. They knew it too.

"I'm going to give you one last chance to leave here. You can say I escaped, or you never found me, and we forget about this meeting. Then you go home to your friends and families."

"You see we could do that, but if we did that, we would take your place. You're coming with us, whether you want to or not. You're right I don't know what would happen if the three of us fought, but we're not here to fight you. We were just assigned to hold you up."

_Hold her up?_  Her many mistakes of the day were compounded by the latest and most significant by far. She hadn't thought that she rated one. It was a compliment in a way.

"Could you be any more melodramatic Bron?" A fourth figure pushed its way through the grass.

"My apologies sir." It was perhaps telling that even the hunters stepped back from their  _ally._

The newcomer ignored him coming to a stop a dozen feet away from Ruby. "Ruby Rose you are under arrest for breaching the Hunter's Concordat," he spoke in a bored tone, as if he'd done this dozens of times before. In reality he probably had. "You have the right to legal representation, etc, etc. We can do this later. Are you going to come quietly?"

There was no doubt in her mind that he was what she'd thought and that made her decision process awfully simple. She'd watched Penny fight, she'd watched the footage of them retaking Vale. She'd watched some of the other footage that had surfaced since. The videos that had turned Ozpin's enforcers into legends spoke about in hushed whispers. When facing a Tinman you had two choices: you ran or you died. He might not have killed her, especially not if someone wanted her capture enough to assign a Tinman to her case. It wasn't hard to guess who. But she would have preferred death to being brainwashed in a cell.

Ruby had managed to face down three hunters without fear, but she felt it then. The Tinman sensed her intention. He started forward with a speed that startled even her. The grenades going off in their directed hollows didn't seem to affect him in the slightest.

If not for her desperation he would have caught her. His fingers came so close to her arm, and if he had a grip nothing would have persuaded him to let go. As it was, the frantic flaring of her Semblance was just enough.

Sliding on the dirt which just didn't have enough traction, she lined herself up and started to run. There was no point hoarding her Semblance now. Tinmen might have been faster than almost anyone, but no one was faster than her.

She stopped just long enough to grab her pack; even without her precious memorabilia, heading into the wilderness without basic supplies was suicide. She couldn't afford more than a second though. He might not have her speed but he more than made up for it in stamina.

So she ran, flaring her Semblance all the while. The act of running came to dominate Ruby. The fatigue, the strain, the ache of her diminishing Aura all coalesced into a feeling of timeless enervation. As one foot fell in front of the other in an indomitable rhythm, as her rucksack bounced against her shoulders, her world sank until she was alone with her thoughts.

She didn't know how it had come to this. Her being on the run, a criminal hunted by those who proclaimed themselves hunters while she wasn't one. Her being all alone. It would have made it so much easier if she just knew what happened to everyone she cared about.

Yang, Blake, she knew they'd survived Vale's liberation and not much more. They'd gone to ground too. The same was true for her dad and uncle. She hoped they were all together. Even if she had to be alone, she hoped they were all looking out for one another.

The separation was figuratively killing her. She missed Yang so much it physically hurt. She'd thought that once the war was over they'd all be able to resume their old lives. It had been so naïve. It had been over two years since she'd even heard her sister's voice. Just a phone call would have been enough. It wouldn't happen though.

Her scroll had been one of the first things she'd abandoned. She'd left that all the way back in Atlas. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it her thoughts always circled back there. To the snow-covered country on top of the world. The one that was so beautiful and utterly brutal. A fitting description.

And of course her thoughts always centred on one person in Atlas. If thinking of Yang hurt, picturing Weiss was agony. Ruby couldn't help it though. She thought about her every single hour without fail. Saw her smiling, playing with Zwei in their apartment, dressed and ready for a ball. Saw her leaving the bathroom in a towel, her skin flushed and smooth. Saw every little part of her that had caused Ruby to fall in love with her again and again. It made it all the harder. Weiss haunted her waking thoughts and her dreams. As she ran she blinked tears from her eyes.

Ruby still loved Weiss with all her heart, even after Weiss had betrayed her.


	2. Chapter 2

The man's step was hesitant as the attendant showed him through the door. Weiss spared him a brief glance before going back to her notes.  _Bosque Madera - Property._ Internally she sighed. Another one. But externally only a welcoming smile adorned her face. All those years of intensive training were coming in use once again.

Bosque came to a stop directly on the small cross taped on the floor before her chair, even going so far as shuffling his feet so they were both on top of it. It was almost as if he believed something terrible would happen if he made even that small a mistake.

It was a reaction that she was used to. Even after almost two years, the motto of the Schnees remained on everyone's lips. Atlas' brief civil war was entrenched in memory. No one had lived through it without being affected in some way, and all knew who had orchestrated it.

The Lady Schnee.  _The Ice Queen_ , as some were so fond of calling her when alcohol warmed their bellies. They would never dare say it to her face. She'd made sure of that. By and large, her father had played by the rules that had been set in stone so long ago. She'd shattered that stone, then ground it into dust and scattered it to the wind.

Her father had been feared, true, but she could set people trembling with a word. Even the nobles bowed and scraped before her. She'd transcended them all and they knew it. Despite her common moniker she wasn't a queen. At least not officially at any rate. She hadn't been crowned. Her title was still the Lady of House Schnee, and technically she was Councillor Schnee as well. But she ruled a Council of one. For all intents and purposes her power in Atlas was absolute.

No one was willing to oppose her will now.

She had to swallow hard at that thought. It wasn't true. There was one person who had. And that betrayal still burned hot enough it could bring tears to her eyes. Not now though. At this moment her diamond-laden tiara may as well have been the crown most thought it was, and she put on the appropriate display for her subject.

If she'd ever seen him before his face had regressed into the blur of a crowd. He didn't come from a lineage which could be traced back centuries. He was just a normal civilian. One who had gained a personal audience with his  _queen_.

It wasn't that unusual. She might have risen to this lofty position of power in less-than altruistic ways, but she wanted to be better. Her father had always said that fear was the best way to rule; she didn't believe that. Respect was far superior. Despite everything, despite how their house was now far more powerful than it had ever been, that his precious legacy was ensured, Weiss knew he would have derided her for her actions now.

Bosque was a peasant. So why was she wasting her limited time on him? It was a question many would have liked an answer to. She didn't need to give one however; they only needed to look in the history books. King Arthur Pendragon, in her opinion the greatest ruler their country had ever known, had done the same thing. On feast days the common folk had been able to come and petition their king.

Once things had settled down, and she was sure there wasn't going to be an uprising, she'd revived the concept. For one day a month she sat in this room and listened to all manner of petty grievances. Most were quite simply fantastically dull; an argument over grazing land between farmers, an inheritance that had been incorrectly split, or even which neighbour had the right to cut down the tree that was straddling their properties. Most of the cases she presided over would have been better suited for the courts, but most of the people who came to the petition days couldn't afford the fees.

Here they didn't have to pay anything; even travel and accommodation were free. Too much of Atlas only benefited the rich; she wanted to change that, and this was how she started. On a petition day all were equal. A lowly labourer could even summon his lord to answer a grievance. None did though; they were only equal in this room after all.

Weiss wished she could change everything, but it was impossible. That just wasn't the way the world worked. Still, spending one day a month of her time gave those less fortunate than her an opportunity. She hoped that some might take it. At least among some she felt as if she were starting to win them around. They might still fear her ̶ ̶ and in all honesty fear was necessary ̶ ̶ but they were beginning to feel the silk glove as well.

"Good morning Bosque." Weiss spoke from an elevated position. Though her chair and desk were only set on a dais a few inches tall, it was appropriate for their differing stations and instantly reminded anyone of her authority. It wasn't her desire to intimidate though, that was why she received petitioners in one of the side rooms of Tintagel Castle rather than the restored main hall.

"L… Lady Schnee." He'd obviously been instructed on how to greet her, but she could easily pick out a dozen things that were wrong with his bow. His trembling really didn't help either. It appeared Bosque fell into the category of those who feared her. Not surprising really, he was from Calypso.

Weiss tried to help him relax by speaking fluidly and pleasantly. "I'm glad you're here. Unfortunately today's schedule is extremely busy so I'm afraid we'll have to get on with this as quickly as possible. I believe you wish to raise an issue to do with property?" If there was one thing Weiss didn't enjoy it was that there was never any opportunity just to talk with those who came. To learn what they would change about Atlas if they were the ones who sat in her seat.

"Uhh…" Sweat poured from his brow and covered his face in a slick sheen.

"There's no need to be nervous Bosque. Just say what you have to say. No one is going to reprimand you in here."

Weiss watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped before clearing his throat. "Right. I work on a farm, a cattle farm, or at least it was. We don't have many left these days." Bosque shook his head.

"And that is the nature of your problem?" Weiss coaxed him.

"Yes. We're struggling to make ends meet. We always were anyway, but now… we just can't."

"Who exactly is the opposing party of your grievance?" That was how it worked. She was meant to be an independent adjudicator between two complainants. There were some who raised an issue with the state, but so far this just seemed to be a case of bad management or ill luck.

If possible he appeared even more nervous at that question. "It's… it's you, your Ladyship."

Weiss didn't notice how a neutral mask settled on her features or how the warmth fled from her voice. "Me?"

"Umm… Yes your Ladyship." Bosque wrung his hands.

"Might I enquire as to why you hold me responsible for your business failings?" Weiss interlaced her fingers just as her father had always done and peered over them.

"My farm is, was, on Estrella lands. When you bombed it ̶ ̶ "

"The Estrella household was destroyed in a tragic Dust accident. You would do well to remember that."

That was the official record of events at any rate. Despite what everyone knew had actually happened, there had been no Atlesian civil war. Instead, almost overnight, a number of different Houses had suffered terrible accidents and Schnee troops had been altruistically deployed to help them. As ridiculous as it was, appearances had to be maintained. Nobles couldn't be seen to be attacking one another. They had to set an example.

Bosque bobbed in another half-bow. "Yes your Grace."

"Continue."

"Umm," Bosque didn't have much of an avenue for complaint anymore if it had been an accident, but he'd come here because he didn't have any other choice. "The explosion maimed some of my cows. I had to put them down. The stream which runs through my land got something in it and made the rest sick. It still does and we don't have the money to keep melting snow."

"Why have you waited until now to request compensation? You should have put your name forward as the Estrella estate was being redistributed." Unlike the public perception her heart wasn't made of ice. She knew that despite the lie there might well have been merit in his complaints. If that was the case the blame fell at her door.

"We did, but we were given a pittance. It barely covered the cost of a new bull. There wasn't enough to sort out the water, or repair the buildings. We've had to eat into our savings and now they're gone."

If that was the case it infuriated Weiss. She had no doubt it was. The Estrella estate had been huge. Its business holdings and accounts had been absorbed into a shadow corporation residing under the SDC's umbrella, but the rest had been split between the loyal houses and the local government.

It had been meant to make the citizens lives better; instead it had probably found its way into one pocket after another until barely anything was left for those who needed it. Corruption was one of the vices that she'd tried to purge. The offence in a public office held a severe prison sentence, though that law had been passed only a year ago. It was very possible that while the books said Bosque had received a sizeable amount, in reality he'd only received a fraction of it.

Officially there could never be a public record that linked her to the  _accidents_  that had occurred throughout Atlas. They had been accidents after all. Bosque would never receive any compensation from her or the SDC, but she could still assist his situation.

"I will instruct the local officials to re-examine and re-value your claim."

"Thank you your Grace." Weiss couldn't find the energy to correct the appellation. No matter how many times she did too many viewed her as the queen.

"If that is all you may withdraw." He did and she hoped he would tell others of his meeting with her. Tell them that she wasn't as terrifying as the stories.

At least her meeting with Bosque had been short, sweet, and had come to a successful conclusion. Most ended up dissolving into an argument and on occasion she'd had to break up a fight. It was something she tried to avoid; it only caused more rumours to circulate. Even if her intention for petitioning days had been to facilitate the correction of injustices, most just used it as another avenue to try and get ahead in the world. She was not fond of those who wasted her time.

Starling entered the room. She'd been loyal, unlike some, and had been justly rewarded. Being the Chief of Staff of Lady Schnee suited her. She'd lost many of the tells that the lower classes often picked up throughout their lives and now, with the correct posture, her stride was supremely confident. She could have been a noble. She soon would be with the gift Weiss had prepared for her next birthday. It was a small holding, but undoubtedly Starling would manage it much better than its previous owners.

"Weiss." It had taken Starling some time to revert back to calling her by her name. After the  _accidents_  she had scraped and grovelled as much as anyone. As if the person who she'd worked for was no longer who she'd believed they were. It had been months before she realised that nothing had changed. "That was the last one of the morning. It's time for lunch."

The way she said it brokered no argument. Weiss willed her stomach to stop rumbling; she hadn't felt like breakfast this morning and in all honesty didn't feel like lunch either. Starling clearly wouldn't accept no for an answer though. Weiss smiled. If anyone thought she was a dread queen from legend they should see how her employee bossed her around. "I'll eat in the gardens."

"It should be waiting for you. I arranged for something light." As ever, Starling had learned to predict her mood.

"Thank you." Weiss collected her belongings and began the long and complicated journey out of Tintagel Castle. Originally it had been a defensive fortification and the layout of its internal corridors had been designed to confuse the enemy. Over the many centuries since, it had been redesigned and refurbished time and time again. The result was an even more confusing maze of official corridors and servant passages. It was not efficient in the slightest and Weiss was of a mind to order them to tear it all out.

Those she encountered bowed or curtseyed low, much lower than they would for any other lord or lady. Even those who saw her everyday viewed her differently. It was no wonder the confusion over her status had permeated through the population.

The air outside was crisp and ever so refreshing after a morning spent inside. For some it might have been cold, but she couldn't feel it. She made sure that the gardens were given a sizeable portion of the money allocated to repair Tintagel after the White Fang attack. The landscapists had done their work well. Standing on the steps before them they stretched out in front of her. An artistic blend of colours even with the light dusting of snow. The Eiszapfen didn't have anything like this.

Most weeks she only got to spend one or two days at the headquarters of the SDC; there was too much for her to do here. She still had her old office while Winter had moved to their father's. That was the distribution of workload the pair of them had decided on. Winter would continue to do what she did best and manage the SDC and its newly acquired branches, while Weiss ran the country.

It worked well and it was fairer. Ultimately, she owned everything. The company, the estate, the lands surrounding it. She owned it all and Winter had nothing except for what her sister gave her. The inheritance laws were another bureaucratic legacy Weiss was of a mind to change. It only bred resentment and infighting. If the circumstances had been different, she and Winter might very well have been at each other's throats. As it was, they were both satisfied with their allotment. Winter was the CEO of the SDC, and the second most powerful woman in the world. Second only to her sister. Not bad when one considered they were both only just out of their teens.

Winter was thriving, and she was happy. Without the ever-present threat of a plot hanging over them, she'd even lost some of her hardened edge. They made sure to have dinner together at least once a month. After becoming so close they didn't want to drift apart again.

The meals spent with her sister were Weiss' favourite evenings. They were fun. Talking, laughing, being in the company of someone who was her equal. Winter had changed too. Unless Weiss was very much mistaken, she'd met someone. No amount of prodding would get Winter to open up, but the rapid change of subject was as good as confirmation. Weiss was happy for her. She knew how special love really was. How it could make even the greyest days bright.

Unfortunately today was grey. Snow clouds hung over the garden and only patchy sunlight was getting through. The guards stationed outside saluted her before snapping back to attention. Thankfully she didn't have to put up with bodyguards anymore. In the wake of the war Erashan had been insistent that she be followed by what felt like an army battalion everywhere. The pounding of their boots had almost driven her insane.

It had taken him far too long to realise that she was no longer in danger. The White Fang had been wiped out entirely. As for those who'd taken her father from her, the few who been allowed to survive had learnt a very valuable lesson.

Though they'd failed in their ultimate goal, in their eyes the House Schnee had been weakened, left in the hands of two pampered teenagers. They'd expected the sisters to grieve, and maybe try and hatch their own subtle plan. There were rules that the nobles of Atlas all played by. Rules that she'd ignored.

They hadn't known she'd been the one conducting the SDC's operations against the White Fang, not her father. They hadn't known that she'd been blooded and tempered in combat. They'd expected her to treat them as nobles; instead she'd treated them like the vermin they were.

Those who talked about the civil war in bars called it 'The Twilight War'. They weren't far off. It had been largely over before the sun had fully risen. The Houses that had moved against her had used the White Fang to hurt her and likely expected her to concoct a similarly convoluted plot. No one had expected air strikes.

Two days after her father's funeral, that was what she'd ordered. Dozens of them on the perpetrators' estates and properties. The majority of her enemies had died within hours. Those who had been in the middle of cities had been arrested or had suffered other unfortunate "accidents". It had been a monumental task to hit all her targets within such a short time frame, but the forces she'd honed were the best on the planet.

The rising sun had woken Atlas to a dramatic shift in its power balance. House Schnee had no more rivals. It was undisputedly at the top of the pile. She'd managed to accomplish what her father had not. It was a fitting tribute to his memory.

Her media teams had been on point as well. The official story of accidents and disappearances had been the only one reported. It was better that way. Left to their own devices the populace were liable to panic.

Unfortunately, there were always dissidents. Those who believed they had all the facts when in truth they had none. The bloggers, the so-called activists who hid on the web, it was from them that her title of the Ice Queen had risen into popular usage. They insisted on spreading lies and misinformation.

If they were to be believed, she'd wiped out half the noble families in Atlas and then spat on their graves. It wasn't surprising that most of those who'd been arrested had at one stage been allied with those who had stood against her. The bloggers weren't being altruistic; they were just playing their own game. It was one that she refused to allow them to finish.

For the first time in generations Atlas was moving in a single direction. The world was beginning to move in a single direction. The petty politics that had ingrained themselves into every facet of society were no more. Both Atlas and Vale were now driven by the will of their individual leaders, and together they were pushing the Grimm from Vale as they had from Atlas. In only two years she and Ozpin had almost managed to accomplish what many believed to be impossible. That was worth any of the sacrifices that the activists complained about.

Even now it was obvious that if she gave them an inch they would drag Atlas and the world at large back into strife. Ozpin understood that too. In one sweep he'd wiped out the White Fang. To most it had been a horrific act; to her it had been necessary. They had been zealots, and if even a single one had been left alive their cause would have found root again.

Ruby hadn't understood that. Understood any of it. For so long Weiss had thought that Ruby's childish innocence had been endearing. Now she knew the truth. It was simple stupidity. Ruby looked at the world through black and white glasses and through them Ruby even saw her as the villain.

That was what hurt most. Ruby hadn't even given her the chance to try and dumb it down for her. Hadn't even given her the opportunity to explain her side. Ruby had obviously believed that she didn't even owe her that. Instead Weiss had come home to find Ruby gone.

Her first thought, upon realising that it wasn't simply a game, had been terror. Despite the fact some of Ruby's belongings were gone, she'd believed Ruby had been kidnapped in reprisal for her actions. Thousands had been mobilised at her order. A countrywide search had taken place, all to no avail. Ruby had vanished.

She hadn't slept at all that night; she couldn't with the constant bouts of nausea. She hadn't wanted to anyway; nightmares would have been waiting for her. In the end though, it would have been easier if Ruby had been kidnapped. It would have been better than the alternative.

It had taken days for the slightest trace of Ruby to surface. Days where Weiss hadn't slept or eaten. Days where hundreds of homes and businesses had been raided. And it had all been in vain. In the photograph the girl boarding the plane at the airport hadn't looked much like Ruby at all in fact, but Weiss had recognised her. Just as she'd recognised there was no gun held to her back, no blade at her throat. Ruby had left of her own free will. She'd broken her promise. In the end Ruby had abandoned her too.

There was still an order out for her arrest. Weiss wanted to look her in the eye and ask her why, but she was nowhere to be found. Ruby had slipped through the authority's fingers at the swearing in ceremony for hunters in Vale; the civil servant who'd made that mistake no longer had a job. If she'd been back to Patch she'd avoided those who were watching.

Even Yang didn't know where Ruby was. Yang had abandoned Weiss as well. Just like all her friends. As her father had told her numerous times, ' _friends were for the weak'._  She now recognised the truth of his words. She was better than them.

They obviously thought they were better than her. After months of not being able to talk at all Yang had not once asked how she was after Vale's liberation. Not once. In fact she'd barely said a word to her. She hadn't even given her condolences for the death of her father.

In fact, Yang had only called her when she'd been unable to get an answer from Ruby. Yang had even had the audacity to blame her for forcing Ruby away. It was at that point that Weiss had hung up. She didn't need Yang, or Blake either.

Both were technically wanted for desertion, and it wasn't a charge she'd waived. Neither had been given permission to leave Vale and neither had registered as hunters either. That wasn't mentioning what Ozpin had discovered about Blake. The last she'd heard was that they'd left Vale altogether. Weiss didn't miss them; she wasn't lonely in the slightest.

It certainly wasn't that feeling which resulted in her inviting Starling to join her under the roof of the gazebo. The heat radiating from the brazier at its centre banished whatever chill remained in the air. Weiss sat on the padded seat and gazed out over the gardens. They were hers. It all was. Everything her eyes could see, right up until the horizon, was hers. It should have made her happy; it didn't.

"Do you ever wonder what the point of it all is?" Weiss asked.

"The point of what?" Starling said as she tucked her skirt underneath her.

"This," Weiss gestured at the gardens and at the city beyond, "I spend all day trying to make their lives better, and no one seems to care. No one thanks me. I'm just the Ice Queen."

Starling took her time to answer. She was one of the only people Weiss opened up to, and sadly her melancholy wasn't a rare occurrence these days.

"I don't think that's true. People do appreciate you. What you sacrifice for them. But those who feel aggrieved are the ones who shout the loudest. If you go out into the city you'll see ninety nine percent of the people just living their lives. That's all they want. Just the opportunity to go to work and then to go home without anything out of the ordinary happening. That's what they get with you. You've given them stability. After so much strife that's important."

"Is that enough?"

"I think it is. I'm going to be biased here but take Lily as an example," Starling's eyes glazed over as she pictured her daughter. "Her days consist of going to school, playing with her friends, and then going home. Maybe we might go out in the evenings or maybe not. But she doesn't have to worry about a terrorist attack, or riots in the streets, or a power outage, or the Grimm. Her biggest worry is if we run out of ice-cream. Two years ago she cried herself to sleep every night because of the awful things she'd seen on the news. Now she's happy. She has you to thank for it."

Weiss thought about that for a moment. Weighing up the testimony of one girl against all the worries that lay heavy on her shoulders. Lily's story summed up all that she wanted to achieve. To allow people to live a normal and untroubled life. To go to school, to work, to make friends, and ultimately thrive.

No matter what the bloggers said, she was achieving that. Wasn't she? She was leading them all down the right path. As usual a conversation with Starling had helped. Sometimes she just needed a little bit of confirmation or encouragement. Starling was good at that, as she was with everything else. She was entirely invaluable.

"I'm glad to hear that. How is Lily doing?" Weiss asked, pushing her light salad around the bowl with her fork.

Starling glowed, partly due to the effect her words had on Weiss, but mainly because of her pride. "Really great. Her teachers say she's near the top of the class and is beginning to come out of her shell. She's a natural at maths apparently."

"I'd like to see her again sometime." Weiss missed her. Her busy schedule and Lily's normal routine simply weren't compatible.

"She'd like that as well. She asks about you a lot. I'll bring her with me at the weekend for a couple of hours, but only if you stop playing with your food and start actually eating it."

Weiss scowled at her. It was an expression that would have brought almost anyone else to their knees, but one which Starling bore with just a smile. She was bribing a  _queen_ , and what's more she knew she'd completely get away with it.

Almost to spite her Weiss speared a great clump of leaves on her fork and shoved them unceremoniously into her mouth. It was entirely undignified and childish, and she enjoyed doing it. Fun was not something that she had often these days. Starling did her best to hold in her laughter, but the tightening of lines at the corner of her eyes gave her away.

"See all you needed was a little bit of motivation," Starling said as Weiss stared at her, struggling to chew the wad of compacted greenery. It was a relief when she was finally able to gulp it down. "But you need to take better care of yourself. You can't neglect your own health just because you're busy."

Weiss nodded, her throat tightening. She'd been told that countless times before. By Ruby most of all. It was just something she couldn't help though. Her appetite came and went with whatever pressures she was under. She would have preferred to be able to eat normally, but sometimes it was simply impossible.

Starling perhaps sensed the change in Weiss' mood and what memories her words might have awoken. As smoothly as she was able to she changed the subject, going back to talking about Lily's schoolwork. Weiss was grateful for the distraction of the near monologue. It was better for some corpses to stay buried.

Starling only stopped talking when Erashan approached. In his usual black suit he took shelter from the light snow beneath their roof. He bowed to Weiss. "My Lady. Ms Fernholz."

"Lord Wache," Starling nodded to him.

The greetings were overly formal, but they always tried to outdo each other. Weiss didn't usually discourage the competition. Together Starling and Erashan made up her left and right hands. She wouldn't have been able to cope without either of them and when they were pushing each other they were even more effective. Even so, Erashan still appeared hesitant to speak.

"You may say whatever it is before Starling. You should know that by now." As her personal assistant Straling had been shielded from her actions against the White Fang, but they were no longer a secret. Starling knew all about the hard decisions she'd had to make.

"Yes my Lady." Weiss pressed her lips together; despite many attempts she'd never managed to get Erashan to call her by her name in anything that resembled a formal situation. His nobility was simply too deeply ingrained. "We've found her."

Very carefully Weiss set down her fork. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's been confirmed by multiple sources."

"Where is she?" Not many would have noticed how her voice trembled with the effort of controlling it.

"In Vacuo. She's taken up residence in the capital."

"I want her brought to me."

"It's not that simple." Erashan chose his words carefully. "She has allies. Most likely Badr is among them; he granted her an audience in the palace. She's his advisor. It doesn't matter anyway, she's been granted citizenship and they'd never extradite a national."

Weiss could almost touch her. She wouldn't let her slip away. Not again. She fixed Erashan with a penetrating stare. "I keep hearing excuses. I don't like excuses. Normally you're better than that. I'm telling you what I require. It's your job to make it reality."

"You're talking about an extraordinary rendition without Vacuan assent."

"I am well aware of what I am suggesting."

"It's possible, but I can't guarantee that it won't get messy. There might be fallout."

"Weiss," Starling used her given name, "We can't afford to antagonise Vacuo at the moment. They've only just started to warm back up to the treaty. We've spent months trying to smooth over the Grimm situation. It's so close. Do you really want to jeopardise everything we've been working towards?"

Of course this was the problem with having two outspoken advisors. Sometimes they ganged up on her. It was in these moments that she wished she'd kept them on much tighter leashes. They shouldn't be arguing with her when her intentions were obvious. While it was true the treaty was important, other matters took precedent.

Weiss let Starling feel the ice in her gaze. "It is my will. See that it is done."

Starling wilted at the tone of the reprimand, but Erashan bowed. "As your command, so shall it be." There was a hint of mockery in the formality of his response and Weiss almost dressed him down.

"You are dismissed."

"We should be ready in ninety six hours. I'll keep you informed." Erashan backed away for three steps before turning.

Weiss watched him depart. Sometimes he infuriated her immensely. Not everything required a contradictory argument.

"You may leave me as well." Weiss didn't look at Starling.

"Oh… yes my Lady." Clearly flustered Starling curtseyed, perhaps in imitation of what she believed had been respect from Erashan, not mockery. "Do you wish to cancel the other petitions?"

Weiss thought for a moment. "No." It wouldn't be fair on those who had been waiting despite her plummeting mood. With Starling gone Weiss was finally alone.

Occasionally it was what she needed. Her childhood, though unhappy, had been largely spent in solitude. She'd always had to solve her own problems. Work her way through whatever was troubling her. She did that now.

It was never pleasant to order people into danger, but barely a day went past when it wasn't necessary. Even when she signed the relocation orders of troops for the Wall the possible injuries and deaths lay heavy on her. There were more than ever these days; the Grimm in the north of Atlas had increased in number and ferocity just like everywhere else. The burden was one of a ruler, and until they'd experienced that crushing weight no one was in a position to give her advice.

Weiss left the heated shelter and stepped into the light snow. The brush of snowflakes sent tingles through her skin. The cold felt good. She'd always been at home in it. Most Atlesian natives were to an extent, but it didn't bother her at all.

The gravel path crunched beneath her heels as she wound her way through the gardens. The scenic route back to the castle gave her time to think. As was often the case after the fact, she began to second-guess herself. She'd been right, hadn't she? It had been the correct decision. She understood why some in power surrounded themselves by people who only said "Yes." It would have been so much more reassuring, but not better. The doubt was good. It was when she stopped doubting that she had to worry.

Weiss was so deep in thought she almost collided with another equally pensive person walking the gardens. The figure was quite evidently not an Atlesian native, they were wrapped in multiple layers, a scarf masking almost the entirety of their face, and a hat was jammed on their head. None of it helped the long rabbit ears that were still exposed to the cold.

"Velvet."

Velvet jumped. She hadn't even noticed that anyone was nearby. It was impossible to tell whether she was more or less frightened now that she knew who had snuck up on her. "Uh… Hello Weiss." Thankfully Velvet had only tried to address her as "My Lady" once.

"It's good to see you." It really was. Velvet was one of her few  _friends_  who hadn't run to a different continent. Not that they spent much time together. Velvet wasn't allowed.

"Yes you too." The shaky smile made Weiss think it was genuine.

"How have you been?"

"Busy…" her teeth chattered, "and cold."

If Weiss had been wearing anything more than a dress she would have offered a shawl to Velvet. "It probably doesn't help that you're outside."

"No it doesn't. I decided to go for a walk and then got turned around. It's like a maze out here." It almost was. The hedges meant to block the wind were also thick and tall enough to limit their sight of the castle.

"It does take a bit of getting used to." Weiss agreed. "It's this way."

Velvet hugged herself. "How can you wear that dress out here? Just looking at you is making me colder."

"It's not too cold today. It'll be worse come winter. It's predicted to be a bad one." For Atlas that was really saying something. Even the weather was an added burden. She had to make sure there was enough food stored to feed the populace in the event that next year's crops were ruined. It was a logistical nightmare.

"I heard that too. They've been talking about it on the news." The weather was one of the safe topics that had been agreed upon.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Weiss asked.

"Umm…" she looked away.

"Velvet."

"I'm with Coco."

Weiss' eyes narrowed at the mention of Coco. The ungrateful brat. When approving the final list of targets Weiss had let emotions cloud her judgement. It was mistake that she wouldn't make again.

Émile Adel and his brothers had been central to the plot that had killed her father and almost killed her sister. Despite that, despite the mountain of evidence she'd decided to spare him and his family. The Adel Estate had not suffered an accident. Émile had vanished, and the rest of them had been arrested, but they were alive. She'd even released Lord and Lady Adel after they'd sworn an oath to her that they had no knowledge of their sons' actions.

She'd done all that in the name of friendship, and Coco had thrown it back in her face. The concept of friendship wasn't worth the paper it was written on. Coco had practically kicked her office door down and demanded her brothers' release. It didn't matter to her that they'd confessed to treason. In Coco's incomprehensible mind it was Weiss who was in the wrong.

It was in that moment that Weiss had added Coco to the ever-growing list of those who'd only feigned friendship towards her. After sending away the guards who'd rushed in hot on Coco's heels, Weiss had given her a very clear ultimatum. She could either stay in line, or she could join her brothers.

Coco had almost assaulted her before gathering herself. She'd spoken a few choice words, words that had cut deep and were better left unrepeated, but in the end she'd chosen wisely. Coco had been pacified, but by no means had she been declawed. As it was, Erashan had arranged for a few select servants to be integrated into the Adel household. Weiss hoped it would never be necessary to arrange another disappearance, but it was impossible to say what the future might hold. Especially if Coco carried on the way she currently was.

Though she hadn't been openly hostile, Coco had been intent on pushing the established boundaries. She was always part of the group asking the hardest questions. Wanting to know information that they simply had no right to. The nobles who hadn't fully accepted her leadership. It was a problem. The public were sheep who followed where their nobles led. If they asked questions the general population would too. It caused instability and couldn't be allowed to continue.

Velvet knew all of this. Undoubtedly Coco had talked Velvet's ear off complaining about her. But despite that Velvet didn't treat her with the same hostility. It was worth remembering that there were still some loyal people in the world.

"What's she doing here?" Weiss tried to keep the animosity out of her voice.

"Just meeting some friends."

Weiss could have pushed her. It wouldn't have taken much effort to break Velvet's will ̶ ̶ she didn't handle direct confrontations very well ̶ ̶ but at the same time it was unnecessary. If Coco had really decided to attend a meeting inside of Tintagel Castle it would be trivial to find out who it was with.

There was no need to force Velvet into such an uncomfortable situation. Weiss changed the subject as they finally got out of snow.

"How's the book coming along?" After returning wounded from the liberation of Vale Velvet had decided to take a sabbatical from her career as a huntress. The bullet she'd taken clearly still pained her. In the interim she'd focussed her energy on writing down what she understood by  _Dustcraft_.

"It's… it's getting there." Velvet rubbed her cheeks before blowing them out in frustration. "Slowly. I know what I want to write. I just can't find the words. Most of its instinctive. I can put down the equations, but I can't describe how to apply them. I just do it. You understand right?"

Weiss nodded. She'd studied how to use Dust as much as anyone on the planet. The books could give you pointers, tips, but ultimately it was necessary to develop your own way of combining Dust with your Semblance. Even, so Velvet was one of the most accomplished Dust users in world; any glance into her mind would be worth it.

"I do. Some things are instinctive, but hang in there. I'm sure you'll work out the appropriate way of articulating your thoughts."

Encouraged, Velvet smiled. "Thanks. Actually it would be helpful to get your take on some of the things I've written so far. I mean, I know you're really busy, so I don't mind if you say no, but you've always impressed me with your own Dustcraft. You might be able to spot something I've missed."

Though her workload was excessive, Velvet's request wasn't outrageous. Weiss could find the time to read a few draft pages. It would be a welcome distraction from the reams of legislation that were currently filling up her in-tray.

"It wouldn't be a problem. Just send me what you have. After I'm done we could meet and discuss it in a little more detail."

"That would be great! Coco doesn't have a clue about Dust. She shrugs whenever I try and ask her a question." It was only after saying it that Velvet realised she had broached the thorny subject again.

Weiss ignored it, but she couldn't ignore the clock face. Thanks to the snow she'd have to get changed before the afternoon session of petitions. "Like I said just send me what you have. I'm afraid time is pressing. Can you find your way from here?"

"I think so," Velvet didn't sound too confident.

"Just ask if you need help. It's been good talking to you. Give me a call."

"I will and thanks. You've been really helpful."

So had Velvet. Their conversation had lifted Weiss' mood. Unfortunately it lasted for less than an hour. As was the norm, what was meant to have been a simple discussion to find a solution to the grievance between the two petitioners had descended into them having an argument in front of her. She didn't know whether it was their common breeding that was responsible for their complete lack of manners or something else. Whatever it was, the raised voices were pushing her to the edge of her patience.

"Oh, oh, that's rich coming from you. You knew full well what you were getting in to," Pico almost shouted.

"That's complete crap! How could I when you sent that bitch round to threaten me?" They even had the audacity to swear in front of her. Nothing could excuse that.

"You're lying out your ass."

"Say that again," Russet squared up against him, their faces inches apart.

"You're lying o ̶ ̶ "

A fist flew before he managed to finish his sentence. It missed, but the pair of them began to brawl. In the middle of Tintagel Castle. In front of a member of the nobility. The last of Weiss' restraint drained from her. The fingers of her left hand made a complicated shape. That was all it took these days.

In a fraction of heartbeat a shape materialised above the spinning glyph. In the brightly lit room it didn't glow, but at the same time it was obvious that it wasn't fully corporeal. The Beowolf was a ghost from the past and as it became aware of itself it snarled. Deep and menacing the sound reverberated in Weiss' chest.

Just as she'd discussed with Velvet, Summoning was entirely instinctive. It would have been impossible to categorise just what actually happened, but she'd practiced a lot, and in doing so had developed some new techniques.

The Grimm always fought against her. Their base urges always surged up. All they wanted to do was to kill and rend. She could even feel the desire. Just on the edge of her consciousness was the almost bottomless pit of hate. It gave her a unique insight into the Grimm that few would ever have. She knew how they thought.

At the start she'd believed she'd had to combat those urges directly in her efforts to control the Summoned Grimm. It had been hard and had taken almost all of her concentration. Now she knew better. The Grimm would want to kill no matter what. She couldn't stop that, but she could direct it. The Beowolf knew that only she had the power that would allow it to sate itself.

That understanding allowed her a measure of cooperation that most would think impossible. The Grimm weren't entirely unthinking, and that meant that they could be trained. It was hard work, but the results were worth it. In her repertoire were Grimm suitable for any occasion.

Kilgharrah was probably her favourite though. For some reason most people found Beowolves the most menacing of the Grimm despite the fact that they were some of the easiest to kill. Kilgharrah hadn't been. He was abnormally large for even an Alpha and her battle with him in the fall of Vale had been extremely trying. It hadn't helped that she'd been exhausted when she ran into his pack. In the end Dust was the only way of levelling the odds. She'd left his carcass smoking from the hole through his chest. If he remembered that it was she who'd killed him, any animosity was lost in the unrelenting rage.

Weiss took that rage and directed it at the two men who had broken apart at the snarl. Kilgharrah stalked forward. They'd frozen before him; despite drills since childhood many did when confronted with a monster.

They were in the middle of nightmare and they weren't the first. Over drinks many told the tale of the Ice Queen consorting with Grimm. Some were intrigued, others repulsed, but it always left an impression. Ultimately that was good. Weiss could have called her guards, or even broken up the fight herself, but this way was better. If she could control Grimm it made everyone wonder just what else she could do.

Kilgharrah was just a single command from tearing the two men apart. Just a simple thought, but her will was iron. He moved close enough that his breaths stirred the hair on their heads. With the two vagrants staring into his ethereal eyes Weiss rose from her seat.

"Are you two quite done?" Danger was apparent in her tone.

It appeared that neither wanted to draw attention to themselves by speaking. From their expressions they had come to the realisation of how badly they'd erred. No doubt their minds were replaying every tale they knew of the Ice Queen, for that was undoubtedly who was approaching them.

"On your knees." Her words were punctuated by a growl. It was enough rob their legs of strength. Standing over them Weiss couldn't help but think how pathetic they looked. Their suits were dishevelled, their hair out of place, one had blood leaking from his lip. Like so many they acted like children. "We will now conduct this in a manner befitting adults. I am of a mind to strip you of both your assets, but I will give you one more chance. Do not think to test me. You first."

If possible Russet's face went even paler as she singled him. After a gulp he began to speak. "He conned me. He made me think I was buying his business. I got nothing."

Pico visibly had to bite his tongue. At least they were learning.

"See, that wasn't too hard was it? Now you."

Pico shot a nervous glance behind him before speaking. On silent paws Kilgharrah circled the pair of them. "Your Grace, he's lying. He's the one who tricked me. We were meant to be partners, but when I got to his warehouse all the stock I'd purchased from him just shattered in front of my eyes. It wasn't even real."

Weiss turned her gaze back to Russet.

"I never agreed to anything like that. Why would I sell him merchandise when I was buying out his company? His lies don't even make sense and don't even get me started on that girl he had with him. Who'd bring someone like that to a business meeting?"

Pico almost interrupted. He perhaps would have if not for the presence behind him. As it was, he tried to catch her attention. Weiss nodded.

"Your Grace, I don't know who he's talking about. The only girl involved in the negotiating process was his niece. I swear that on my honour."

Weiss almost scoffed. Among the merchant classes honour was entirely non-existent. Still, something about this didn't seem right. Their stories were just too different. It would be expected for at least the majority of the facts to be the same.

Kilgharrah lay down with his body leant against the back of her legs. It surprised her at just how much he sometimes acted like a domesticated pet rather than a Grimm. Of course for others to see him treating her in that manner only increased their fear.

The girl seemed to be central to their contradicting stories, and Pico's description of what had happened to his stock was certainly familiar.

"What did the girl look like?" Both of them started to speak, stopped, and then waited for an indication of who Weiss was addressing.

"I don't know. She was perhaps twenty? Wearing, well whatever girls that age wear, I wasn't really paying attention. Ask Russet she's his niece."

Weiss did. "She's not my niece. I don't know how many times I have to repeat it. But yeah, she was probably twenty, or maybe late teens. She wasn't wearing a suit though, I thought that was unprofessional. Just some sort of jacket. I swear she was armed though, Pico thought she could intimidate me."

"What colour were her eyes?"

"Emerald," Russet said after thinking a few seconds. "No wait, they were magenta, or was it… she must have been wearing contacts."

"And you?" Weiss asked Pico.

"They were pink, though really pale. But I swear I saw them change colour once. Why"

That settled it. He shouldn't have asked her a question, but she gave him an answer. "You've both been conned. I wouldn't be surprised if this is the first time you've actually met each other. You can file a police report if you really desire. Your money is long gone though. I would chalk this up to experience. If something seems too good to be true, then it usually is."

Both of them had tried to game the system, and they'd both lost. It was clear that they had expected more from their audience. Undoubtedly all of their money returned and with compensation to boot. That wouldn't happen. The petition days were meant to be about helping those who couldn't normally afford it, not those who owned businesses. It wouldn't have been right to turn anyone away, but they'd lost her sympathy.

"You are dismissed." Kilgharrah raised his head from his paws. The subtle threat was all it took to rob them of any argument. He just seemed to know what she desired.

Weiss walked back to her chair. The girl was almost certainly Neo and that pretty much guaranteed that Torchwick was operating within Atlas as well. It appeared that the pair of them hadn't wasted any time in soiling the clean slates she'd given them. Somehow she doubted that the ink on the documents granting them immunity from previous transgressions had been dry before they'd started planning their next crimes.

It was a waste. What they'd accomplished at the head of the Resistance showed just what could be achieved if their talents were properly harnessed. If they were indeed operating in Atlas then she would very much like to open a dialogue with them. It likely wasn't a mutual inclination, but ultimately it didn't matter. Erashan could facilitate it when he returned from Vacuo.

Weiss sat down, Kilgharrah by her feet. Even though her chair could certainly be described as regal, she'd made sure it was comfortable as well. The velvet cushions were plush and supported her perfect posture.

In the moment of peace, listening to Kilgharrah's steady breaths, her traitorous mind wandered. Wandered to the place that she consciously tried to avoid. She wasn't very good at it. Ruby was never too far from her thoughts.

It had been close to two years since she'd seen her, but Weiss' memories were so vivid it might as well have been yesterday. In her mind's eye she could see Ruby as clearly as if she were standing by her side. The clarity made the pain of the betrayal so much worse.

A significant quantity of literature revolved around the concept of a broken heart. As a child she hadn't believed them, now she did. If not for her responsibilities, there were days that it simply hurt too much to get out of bed. She missed Ruby more than was possible. Ruby had been the light that illuminated her world. Now that was gone.

Despite the agony that Ruby had caused her Weiss knew that she'd give her another chance. But only after she got down on her knees and begged for it.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Blake loathed sand. Absolutely loathed it. It might have been pleasant to feel it between her toes at the beach, fun even. Out here in the middle of the Vacuan desert, it was anything but. The sand here was much finer; it only took the slightest breeze for it to be carried on the wind. That was what Blake hated about it the most.

The sand got absolutely everywhere. It was bad enough when a grain got caught beneath an eyelid, especially if it happened in the middle of a fight, though wearing glasses mitigated that possibility. But there was nothing that could be done about it finding a way inside her clothes. With every movement the sand chafed her skin and no matter how many layers she wore it always managed to worm its way deeper. At the end of the day she was able to pour half the desert out from her underwear and other places that were better left unmentioned.

Desert sand was not fun, and the heat made it even worse. At the beach she might have enjoyed taking her shoes off; if she did that here her soles would be fried within heartbeats. The sand soaked up all the energy of the ever-present sun and seemed to radiate it all back at her.

She'd always thought she was able to handle most extremes of weather. She'd spent time freezing in the forests of Atlas, and time baking on the plains of Vale, but the Vacuan desert pushed those extremes to the maximum; the heat attacked her from every single side.

Strength of will didn't matter. At midday, when the sun reached its peak, the heat was so intense it was simply impossible to do anything. It sapped anybody's strength in moments. Even those who had grown up in the harsh environment sought shelter in those hours. For a foreigner, it was essential.

There were some who thought, with such hostile weather in the day, the answer would have been to move at night. They were wrong. If anything the nights were worse. After the sun went down the temperature plummeted. Within hours it was cold enough that the water in her bottle froze solid even inside her tent.

The nights would have been entirely unbearable if not for the fact she slept with her own personal heater. Yang's presence made the cold barely tolerable. Though survival guides recommended not sharing sleeping bags they didn't take into account Semblances, or just the comfort of falling asleep next to your best friend.

Still, spending the night outside was best avoided unless absolutely necessary. If possible they normally planned their patrols so they would be able to make it back to where they were staying. It was often difficult. Their days were cut into chunks in which it was safe to move and they had to make the best of those windows.

"See anything?" Yang asked as they slogged their way to the top of the dune. That was another factor that went on Blake's long list of reasons why she hated sand. It shifted under her feet. It was almost as if she had to climb to twice the height of the dune to reach the summit.

Blake scanned round. "Sand." The sea stretched from horizon to horizon.

"Ha, ha." Yang's laugh was intended to sound fake. "I think you've made that joke at least a dozen times this past week."

"It doesn't change the fact it's true." Blake was unable to keep the bitterness from her tone.

Yang picked up on it. Pausing on the summit she turned around. "We don't have to be here you know. We could move on."

Blake looked at her. Yang was almost entirely shrouded in cloth. It wasn't quite the traditional robes that the nomads wore, they would have been close to impossible to fight in, but there were similarities. The main difference, apart from the added mobility, was that both their clothes were camouflaged rather than deep black. It wouldn't be beneficial for them to stand out on the yellow dunes.

Taking the advice of the locals, Yang had wrapped a shemagh around her head. The material protected her from both the sun's rays and from breathing in sand. With the wraparound sunglasses as well her face was almost entirely obscured.

Even so, Blake could tell that Yang's words weren't empty. If she said the word Yang would move on for her sake. It was worth considering. She wasn't really enjoying her life at the moment; the desert environment was draining almost every facet of satisfaction from any job they completed. Still, thanks to her, it wasn't like they had many other options.

Blake forced herself to smile even if it would have been lost beneath her own shemagh. "No, it's just… sand."

Yang grunted. They'd both shared more than enough expletives to learn each other's opinions on it. "Here." Yang gave her a canteen. Like any skin that was exposed, Yang's wrists and hands were baked a deep dark brown. Blake favoured long sleeves and gloves, but Yang couldn't wear any thanks to the necessity of keeping Ember Celica free from any material. Both their bodies were a patchwork of heavily browned strips and much paler flesh that was kept covered; a desert was not the place to get a consistent tan.

Even kept in the insulated canteen the water tasted as if it were close to boiling. It was utterly unsatisfying despite how parched her throat was from the dry heat. Blake honestly considered dropping a blue Dust crystal into it. She was that desperate for a cool drink. It would have been worth the undoubtable case of poisoning. After taking a few measured gulps she passed the canteen back.

"Thanks." This time she got to see Yang's smile as she took off her shemagh with the intention of tying it again. In all honesty Blake didn't have all that much to be grumpy about yet. It was only a couple of hours after dawn, the heat wasn't scalding yet, she was with her best friend, and there were much worse places they could be.

She just hadn't slept well last night; her mood hadn't been improved by her alarm going off at four in the morning to get a head start on the sun. There were about a thousand things she would have preferred to be doing with her day, but unfortunately they didn't pay the bills.

"What about that over there?" Blake passed Yang the monocular as she finished her drink.

"Yeah, could be. I haven't seen anything else today that looks promising."

As much as there was truth in her statement, that all Blake could see was sand, it wasn't the whole truth. Even a sea of sand wasn't featureless. It was possible to tell the direction on the prevailing winds from the orientation of the dunes, or spot the rare tell-tale signs that hinted of a nearby oasis. It was even possible that any disparity in the near constant uniformity of the top layer of sand spoke of something having moved through it ̶ ̶ or hopefully in this case, under it.

"You lead the way," Blake said while readjusting the straps on her rucksack. Having to bring everything necessary for a mission that might include an overnight stay meant both hers and Yang's were bulging. Ideally she would have tightened all the straps, but that would have made it that much more difficult to get out of in a hurry.

"Sure," Yang started a slow and careful descent from the dune. It was all too easy to slip on the shifting surface and then get buried by the resulting avalanche. It had happened once to Blake and it was not an experience she particularly wanted to repeat.

The valley between the dunes provided little respite. The sun still beat down, heat still radiated from all around, and the hot, dry wind still blew. Still, it was better to travel along valleys rather than up and down the slopes. The pair of them made good progress, though neither dropped their guard.

"It looks like you were right," Yang said as they came upon the disturbance Blake had spied. "It's big. What do you reckon… six?"

Blake crouched down. In an almost perfectly straight line a furrow had been carved into the sand. Though time and the wind had started to fill it in, the tracks were unmistakable. "Definitely, maybe bigger." The channel was wide enough that she wouldn't have been able to cross it even with a running a leap. Predicting the size of a Falak wasn't an exact science, but the one they were chasing was a large one.

"Damn." Yang grimaced. That would make it the largest they'd dealt with and normally they weren't easy. "I was hoping you were going to tell me I was an idiot."

"Afraid not. I can if you still want me to though." Blake could see Yang's smile from the way her shemagh moved. "But I would guess these are about four hours old. We should get after it. Maybe this will be over quickly for once."

"Really? Did you really just say that? You know we're going to be chasing this thing all week now."

"Sorry." Yang wasn't being serious, but she should have known better than to tempt fate.

"Well it's said now. Come on." Yang led the way, not walking in the furrow, but alongside it. "It could be worse. At least it actually exists this time."

"There is that."

The last time they'd accepted a contract for a Falak they'd spent four days scouring the area, not finding a trace of it, before they discovered the corpse of goat which had died of dehydration. The same goat the Falak was meant to have devoured. After a bit of investigation it turned out the goatherd's son had thought up a very clever lie as to why the herd he was meant to be watching was one short. A lie clever enough that his tribe had hired two huntresses, and dispatched them into the desert. The boy had been thrashed by his father for the deception, but that didn't change the fact that they'd wasted their time. Hunter's contracts genuinely consisted of a token daily pay and the main reward when the Grimm was slain. Without an actual monster to kill, they'd barely broken even.

"It'll be hard though."

"Yeah I know." Yang sighed. The life of a professional hunter was not the glamorous one that most pictured. It was tough, laborious, and it didn't even pay all that well. Not when you considered the danger they put themselves through daily. They earned more money than most, but the majority of it went on equipment. Ammo, Dust, medical supplies, clothes. None of it was cheap. With it all subsidised at school, that was a lesson that students failed to learn.

"We going to follow the usual strategy?" Blake asked.

"Probably. We might have to adapt though. I'm not sure how well it will work if this one's as big as it looks."

"That's what I was thinking."

As they walked they made the alterations to the plan that might be necessary, though before too long they ceased their conversation to conserve their energy. The sun climbed higher into the sky and to Blake it began to feel as if she were in the middle of a blast furnace. There was worse to come. It was still a couple of hours away from the point when they'd seek refuge.

It didn't help the Falak wasn't concerned with the topology of the desert. Most Grimm would seek to go around the dunes. The Falak just went straight under them, forcing the pair of them out of valleys and up to the peaks. The constant climbing and descending was beginning to take its toll on Blake's muscles. The last two years meant she was probably fitter than at any point in her life, but in this heat it didn't seem to matter.

It was another ninety minutes before Yang stopped, breathing deeply. "I think we're going to have to call it." The frustration was evident. They'd managed to close on the Falak by several hours, but they couldn't go on.

"There's no other choice. We don't want to be fighting this thing near midday. Let's get off the tracks slightly."

After walking along the valley between two dunes for five minutes they set their packs down. Blake extracted the special pegs while Yang readied their tent. It was an expensive one, but it was most definitely worth it. With a practiced motion she threw the disk in the air and in a heartbeat it expanded into a shelter. They secured it before scrambling inside.

For the little space it took up in Yang's rucksack it was surprisingly roomy. In the nights it was perhaps too much so, but for the days both she and Yang could just about manage to stretch out on the floor. There was no instant respite from the sun though; the air inside still scolded Blake's lungs.

They didn't need to communicate. They'd done this too many times before. Both of them began to strip off their many layers. Yang's hair was plastered to her scalp with sweat, and Blake knew hers wasn't much better.

Her boots went off next, she tried pouring the sand that had collected in them outside the door but there were grains everywhere regardless. It was a struggle to get her pants off, especially with Yang attempting the same. Occasionally they kicked or punched one another, but before too long they were both in their underwear. Cramming their things along the side they lay down in the middle a few inches apart.

Blake didn't have the energy to do much more than that. Now they just had to wait it out. She ran a hand over her brow and it came away dripping. The entirety of her body glistened and Yang's did too. Despite how much she didn't want to, she rummaged around in her pack for her canteen. They'd packed enough for ten days, unless something went disastrously wrong they could afford to be a little greedy. Together they drained it.

"Thanks." Yang pillowed her head with interlaced fingers as she stared at the roof.

Blake joined her. Some might have found it uncomfortable to be in their underwear next to another like this. In fact she definitely would have a few years ago. Since then things had changed. She'd changed, and it was her hope it was for the better.

Especially with her enhanced senses the smell in the tent was pungent to say the least. As gross as it was she sniffed her armpit and instantly regretted it. The odour clung to the inside of her nose. Yang laughed at the expression on her face, before doing the same to herself. "Yep, pretty ripe."

Blake put her head back. They'd both sweated profusely, but the smell wafting over from Yang's side of the tent was not exactly one she'd call unpleasant. It was just unmistakably the scent of her old partner.

They both suffered the heat in silence. Many would have paid for the luxury of lying in the near sauna; little did they know they could experience it for free. Just as the pinpricks of light through the canvas were almost exactly overhead Yang caved.

"It's probably time."

Blake barely found the energy to nod. It was Yang's turn anyway. She readied a small cylinder that had taken them multiple months of saving to afford. Yang twisted the top until it opened like a flower and then switched it on.

Both of them curled up around it. The effect wasn't instant, but when it did come it was blissful. Cold swept over them. Luxurious cold. It sank into their bodies through their exposed skin and Blake revelled in it. At that precise moment the cooler was worth a year or more of wages to her.

It worked almost exactly opposite to a heater. As it consumed the blue Dust in its base it robbed the air of its heat. To most, the inside of the tent would still have been close to unbearably hot, to the pair of them though it was almost cold enough to make them shiver.

The miracle of bliss didn't come for free though. In the extremes of the desert the cooler depleted its payload quickly, and they could only afford to use it for thirty minutes a day. They had to make the most of them.

Sitting up they took the opportunity to eat. Calories were important, but equally so was replenishing the minerals that had been lost in their sweat. Again they put their trust in local knowledge. The nomads in the region ate a traditional hard-baked bread, and though it wasn't exactly tasty, it was filling.

Yang washed hers down with some water, before speaking. "Ok, anywhere hurt?"

Blake swallowed her own meal. She might have been unfazed by being in her underwear with her friend, but this part of their routine still managed to make her uncomfortable. The two years since Vale was the amount of time it had taken for the pair of them to fix their relationship. Too many things had happened in the war for it to have been any quicker.

At this moment they were probably closer than they'd ever been. They'd experienced adversity, and through hard work, they'd come out of it all the stronger. There had been no guarantees. Especially given how it ended. Yang would have been entirely justified in abandoning her altogether. She hadn't though, and Blake knew she would never have been able to convey her gratitude. Without Yang's support she might have given up all hope entirely.

As it was, they made it through the rough patch and now they were… well Blake didn't know entirely. Partners, friends certainly, and a confusing mix of more. Yang had only grown more attractive in recent years. In moments like this, or when they were curled up together at night, Blake sometimes couldn't stop her thoughts from wandering.

Yang's underwear was designed for practicality rather than seduction, though it still achieved the latter. To be honest, Yang could probably make a sack look like lingerie if she wanted to. Sitting cross-legged and leaning slightly forward the flesh of her stomach was a series of ripples which hid the muscles beneath. Her cleavage was mostly covered by a bra, but it couldn't obscure the mounds themselves. Even with the patchwork of tan marks Yang was beautiful. Topped off by the gleam of sweat still covering her Blake's imagination ran wild.

She thought, or at least hoped, that Yang still reciprocated at least part of what she felt. Blake was pretty certain she did, but it was hard to tell. Unlike her Yang had been with someone in the last two years. She honestly didn't mind. Back then a relationship had been the least of her priorities and she'd been more concerned with trying to get back to where she'd been with Yang.

Now though, Yang was single, and that possibility was there. If Yang felt the same way she hadn't made a move either. They'd fallen into a comfortable routine and neither of them wanted to be the one to disturb it. They were both as happy as the situation would allow, and they knew how much worse it could be.

It was the uncertainty that made it so hard for Blake to allow Yang to touch her so intimately, but it was the smart thing to do. "Just my left calf," she answered Yang's question. The muscle had been aching for the past hour or so.

"Roll over then."

Blake did as instructed and with practiced movements Yang massaged the offending area. Inside the tent they had the opportunity to tend to any minor annoyances before they became much bigger problems.

Yang's strong fingers on her flesh might have resulted in a warmth entirely independent from the sun, but she could only grit her teeth. Out here there was no safety net. They couldn't just press a button on their scrolls and have an airship from Beacon extract them within the hour. They were all alone. If that twinge turned into a full-on strain, or even a cramp in the middle of a fight, it might well threaten both their lives. When that was the possible outcome, she could suffer through a little intimacy.

Yang was thorough, kneading deeply into her calf and then moving up her leg. "Anywhere else?"

Blake snapped out of her near-trance. "No. I'm good." She rolled away and sat up. "What about you?"

"Just my shoulder." Yang rolled it and grimaced slightly. It had been acting up for a couple of weeks, ever since she'd taken a bad hit on a previous hunt.

"Sure." Blake crawled around behind her and set about gathering up her blonde mane. It was even more unruly than usual as she draped it over Yang's opposite shoulder. With a clear view Blake was free to inspect the troubled flesh. The bruising had faded, but some muscle injuries took longer to heal fully.

"Stretch your arm out." With Blake's guidance Yang did as instructed. The joint cracked. The sound gave a target for her thumbs. They must have worked wonders for Yang let out a rapturous groan.

Blake settled into a steady rhythm. Closing her eyes she used touch to sense where her thumbs would be better used next. Yang's flesh was unlike anyone else's. Even in a desert she hadn't entirely abandoned her moisturising routine and the result was her skin had a texture comparable to the softest velvet. But Yang hadn't abandoned the gym either; just beneath the velvet were bands of iron. Blake had seen Yang bench-pressing and she put bodybuilders to shame. Yang's physique was one most aspired to but didn't have the determination to achieve.

The cooler sputtered and the wave of cold emanating from it died. Blake paused. She always enjoyed making Yang feel good, and Yang had evidently lost track of time too. They both knew what would happen next. Their blissful respite had come to an end.

"Damn." As they always did they considered putting just a little bit more blue Dust into the cooler, before acknowledging they couldn't afford it. The real world was just as unforgiving as the desert.

"We should probably get after it anyway." Blake began to pull on her pants.

"Yeah," Yang sighed. The worst of the heat had passed. It was still hotter than almost anywhere on the planet out there, but they didn't have much choice. The tent would only offer the slightest bit of protection anyway.

It only took them five minutes to get ready and as Blake unzipped the canvas door she was reminded of opening an oven. She physically recoiled from the blast of air before forcing herself through it. Thankfully the sky was still a startling blue and entirely devoid of clouds. Getting caught up in a sandstorm when they were so close would be infuriating.

Their enforced stop had cost them almost two hours and they both knew they would have to push themselves if they wanted to catch up with the Falak before dark. It would have been suicide to jog, but Blake led than at a brisk pace.

It wasn't exactly an exciting chase. Even without the near-crippling heat, there just wasn't anything to look at. One sand dune appeared just like the dozens in every direction. The only sign that they were catching up was that the furrow they were chasing was getting steadily larger as the wind had less time to erode it.

Ten minutes later Blake came to a stop.

"What the hell?" Yang said from behind her. The ground ahead was covered by a criss-cross of the tracks. Passing over one another they looped back and forth.

"I don't know. Make sure to ̶ ̶ "

Blake's feet shifted under her. Both of them reacted with a speed that was only achieved through long hard training and copious amounts of experience. Blake dived out of the way, shrugging off her rucksack halfway through her roll.

A plume of sand erupted from where they'd been standing just a heartbeat before. As it cascaded downwards, covering Blake it revealed the shape in its midst. The Falak was enormous. Normally the sandworms were big, but their earlier estimate had been off. This one must have had a body almost eight feet in diameter. It could swallow her whole and with room to spare.

Blake stood perfectly still, not even daring to breath. Spending most of their lives under the sand, Falaks didn't even have eyes. They relied on tremors and sounds to navigate. It cast around for them. Half of its body was probably still beneath the ground, but it towered over her.

This was the largest Falak she'd ever seen, larger than the majority she'd even heard about in tales. It was probably close to forty feet long. It was enough to consider retreating. Not that they'd get far. Falaks usually moved slowly, but when roused to anger they were able to outpace fleeing prey.

At this moment, staring down the Falak's maw, that was exactly what she felt like. It had teeth all the way down. Rows and rows of them. They ground against each other in its gut like a thousand nails being drawn against a chalkboard.

From its other side came the distinctive sound of Ember Celica cocking moments before a bang. The Falk flopped over backwards, diving down towards the source of the noise. Yang had evidently decided to distract it.

Blake made best use of the opportunity. She ran in, ripping Gambol Shrouds sheath off her back. She didn't draw it. The added mass would be beneficial. Unlike most Grimm, Falaks lacked armoured plates, their rubbery skin was as hard as toughened leather, but it was vulnerable.

With both her hands on the hilt, she swung at the body that was rapidly sliding from the ground. Her blade bit. It wasn't a particularly deep wound, but it was a long one, and white ichor began to leak from the gash. She leapt backwards. Nature hadn't seen fit to equip the Falak with armour, but it was still a Grimm. In response to her attack dozens of spines blossomed from their holes. Venom dripped from them.

Blake attempted to withdraw. It was hard. With the Falak carving tunnels beneath, the sand at her feet shifted unpredictably. With some distance between them, she drew Gambol Shroud and fired a couple of shots.

Her intent wasn't to do any damage ̶ ̶ her bullets bounced from its hide regardless ̶ ̶ no she shot at it because the report was loud. Yang had chosen that exact moment to freeze and the Falak came straight for her.

With literal tonnes of monster bearing down on her it was hard to keep her nerve, but Blake managed it. The worm didn't really slither like a snake; it propelled itself with ridges of undulating muscle. Blake stared into its cavernous mouth, yelling her opposition, and the instant before it hit she disappeared.

The Falak swallowed the stone Shadow she'd left in her wake. It spasmed in a way Blake could only liken to a cough. It might have been able to pass sand without trouble, but the rock was a different proposition.

As it convulsed both she and Yang ran in. This wasn't their preferred strategy of hunting the worms. Normally they preferred to stack the odds heavily in their favour. A network of ropes on the sand and a lure was enough to entangle the smaller ones. That method would have been useless against a Falak this size even if it hadn't turned the tables and ambushed them instead.

With no time for preparation they'd fallen back on the simplest plan imaginable. Keep on attacking until it stopped moving. It wasn't a particularly good plan. Even in the short moments since the beginning Blake could feel that her core temperature had skyrocketed. In heat like this they would lose a battle of endurance.

So she concentrated on doing as much damage as possible. With both swords now she hacked at the section nearest her. Her blades sinking deeper with every swing. It wasn't easy. In its panic and pain the worm thrashed chaotically. Drops of venom sprayed out, blackening the sand where they landed. Blake did her best to avoid the spines, but she could almost smell the burning of her clothes.

Yang did likewise. Her weapon was less suited to this work, so she had to make up for it in other ways. Her fists slammed against the worm's side repeatedly; whenever a bone cracked she moved on.

The worm's tail whipped from beneath the surface and in a shower of sand slammed into Yang. The blow sent her flying. A myriad of scenarios passed through Blake's mind. She imagined Yang broken, begging for help; she imagined her still; she imagined her vulnerable; but in the middle of combat her imagination couldn't rule her. Only logic could. Even if Yang was hurt she had to continue fighting. It was what had been drilled into her by all her teachers.

"Hey!"

Ignoring her protective instincts she used her Semblance to jump to the opposite side of the Falak. It had choked out the rock and zeroed in on her shout. Its keening cry rose above the desert as its teeth undulated furiously. The pain had worked it up into a fury.

It propelled itself upwards until it was twenty feet or more above the ground, then it plunged downwards. She dodged, but it tracked. Blake escaped its mouth by scant inches. She didn't escape the spine that ripped into her. The impact and the burning venom drained her Aura.

The Falak burrowed downwards, the roiling sand almost dragging Blake down with it. Her breaths were ragged, but she still took the opportunity to strike at it. Yang arrived moments later fire trailing in her wake. Her Semblance-fuelled punches caused ichor to erupt with every blow.

They narrowly avoided the whipping tail. As the sand settled in the hole the battlefield went silent. The ground had been thoroughly torn up, white ichor and black venom provided a collage of contrast to the yellow, but of the Falak there was no sign.

They knew better than to speak. There was no way it had run, not when they'd enraged it to such a degree. It was simply biding its time. Blake raised a finger to her lips before gingerly tiptoeing away from Yang. She was about to do something that could either be described as incredibly heroic or incredibly stupid. Currently her money was on the latter.

Confident that Yang wouldn't be caught up, she aimed near her feet and fired. A tiny plume of sand blossomed where her bullet struck. That was it. There was no erupting monster. No movement. Nothing.

She glanced at Yang who could only answer with a shrug of shoulders. Maybe it had run. It wouldn't have been able to grow to that size if it wasn't smarter than most. Resolved to try again Blake squeezed her trigger.

There was no warning. The sand under her shifted an instant before blackness swallowed her. Actually swallowed. The impact lifted her into the air and all around was only darkness punctuated by the white of teeth. Her mind howled in terror, but not before the part that didn't need to think focused on the rapidly shrinking patch of light.

Falling she hit the side of the worm's gut and felt a tooth sink into her. It hurt. A lot. But it also arrested her downwards momentum. Panicked she flared her Semblance. The leap took her ten yards closer to safety, and she vanished again the moment she could.

It wasn't enough. The worm's jaws snapped closed plunging her into complete darkness that not even her eyes could penetrate. Some might have lost hope, but not Blake. Not while she was still breathing. She owed it to Yang to keep trying.

She kept moving upwards. Her blind leap earned her more wounds as she slammed into the tooth-laden wall, but her Shadow blossomed into fire. If it could have the Falak would have screamed. The heat seared its insides and its jaws snapped open.

Blake aligned herself on the target. She had a few last surprises for the Grimm. The fire might have hurt it, but it lived in furnace. The icy figurine of herself plunged downwards as she flew upwards. It took one more leap for her to reach its mouth. She careened off it, but didn't care. After being inside a Grimm even the boiling air was nectar.

Her relief wasn't long lived. The desert stretched out below her in a way that shouldn't have been possible. The Falak's attack had carried the pair of them at least fifty feet into the air and in the featureless terrain she didn't have much of a landing strategy.

The worm didn't either. The ice in its gut drove it mad. Falaks burrowed deep beneath the surface at night. It had likely never experienced anything that cold. Rather than a graceful dive it plummeted downwards.

So did Blake. She cycled her Semblance a couple of times, but her panicked usage had drained most her Aura. It only retarded her descent. Yang caught her. The impact still hurt, Yang's arms would leave bruises for days, but it was a lot less unpleasant than it would have been to slam directly into the desert floor.

The Falak was testament to that. Bones crunched as the ground trembled. The two huntresses trembled too. They'd been through two horrific ordeals that neither would like to relive, but they still had work to do. The Falak was severely injured, but it wasn't dead.

Yang set her down carefully, noting her injuries. "Stay here."

Blake couldn't just sit there. It wasn't her nature to allow one of her friends to go into danger by themselves, not if she still had a modicum of strength in her limbs. She pushed herself up. It hurt, but the pain told her she was alive. After seeing the inside of a Falak, most would not have been.

Yang showed the injured worm no mercy. She hammered punches into its skull. It tried to fight her, to stop her, but it just didn't seem able to. One after another Yang struck the same spot and before too long even the thick bone began to fracture.

Blake tottered towards them. Her head spun, partly due to the heat and partly due to the blood staining her clothes. It was because of her laborious approach that she was able to see what Yang could not. The Grimm's tail ripped free of the ground and whipped towards Yang's back.

There was a split-second for Blake to make up her mind. She flared her Semblance leapt forwards. It didn't quite work like she imagined. Her feet caught in the sand and when she reappeared she stumbled into her partner.

The impact failed to carry them both clear. Though the tail whistled over Yang's head it struck Blake in the side. Her mind went blank. Yang screamed a curse and rushed at the Grimm. Her attacks reached a new level of ferocity. Nothing would have been able to withstand them. The Falak's skull gave way and Yang unleashed a slew of buckshot directly into its brain. It didn't go entirely still, but its twitches no longer had a consciousness directing them.

The soft sand was like a mattress to Blake. It was nice. It supported her body perfectly and she couldn't quite understand why part of her told her to move. It would be better to just lie down for a bit.

"Blake!" Yang shook her shoulder. She couldn't understand why Yang was hurting her… or why she began undressing her. "Fuck." Yang found the traces of black sizzling in the gash along her side.

Yang left her in peace, but it didn't last. She came running back, a box in her arms. Blake shivered. She didn't know why. Deserts were meant to be hot.

"One of its spines caught you."

_Oh… that was probably bad. She should do something about it. Just after she'd had a little sleep._

Yang slapped her. "Stay with me! I've got the anti-venom." Blake shook her head weakly. Despite, or maybe because of, growing up in a surgery she didn't like needles. Yang ignored her feeble protestations, grabbing her arm she slid the syringe into her vein.

"Sorry, this is going to hurt." Yang hadn't lied. Whatever she was doing to the wound brought tears to Blake's eyes. It robbed her of strength completely. Blackness engulfed her.

* * *

 

Hours had passed before Blake's eyelids finally fluttered open again. Even in the low lamplight, Yang could see the confusion and almost childlike fear in her eyes.

"Hey." She lay a fresh cool cloth over Blake's forehead.

It took Blake much longer than it should have to work out who the voice belonged to. Her thoughts were undoubtedly clouded and slow, her eyes rapidly darting around.

Blake tried to answer, but the only sound that came out of her throat was a dry crackle. She winced with pain, panic growing in her face.

"Don't." Yang said firmly, carefully dribbled water onto her cracked lips. "Go slowly." Blake did. She struggled to swallow, but after a few mouthfuls her panic faded. "Good." Yang took the canteen away.

Blake's eyes became just a little more focussed, but the confusion was still present. Yang was tired. She'd spent hours tending to Blake, fighting to keep her from dying. Now Blake's fevered head was pillowed in her lap. It wasn't the first time or even the second. Blake was always the one who got hurt, never her. It was exhausting, but Yang knew she would always there for her.

"How…" Blake had to cough. "How long?"

"It doesn't matter. You scared me today." Yang continued to mop her brow. Blake's skin was on fire. In the cold of the desert the fever was only more damaging. Just another thing that had almost robbed her of her best friend.

"Sorry," Blake whispered, the mewling apology reminiscent of a child caught stealing from a cookie jar.

"That's not good enough!" Yang spat. She hadn't meant to get angry. It was just her frustration and terror boiling over. Blake's eyes widened with fear, her entire body tensing.

With a deliberate effort Yang forced herself to calm down and went back to mopping Blake's forehead with some of their precious water. "What were you thinking? I told you to stay back."

Blake frowned, the lines of confusion etched in her forehead as she tried to remember. "You needed help."

"I didn't. And even if I did you weren't in a position to give it. You only succeeded in getting yourself hurt."

"Sor ̶ ̶ "

Yang sighed heavily. Just how many times had she had this conversation before? A dozen? More? Too many to count. "I don't want to hear it. You always do this. Put yourself in danger. Give yourself the most dangerous role. Pick up the most difficult contract. I know you think it's for the best, but it's not. I get that you don't want to see someone else get hurt, but I don't want to see you get hurt either, and that's the way it usually ends up.

"There's a bit of me that thinks you do it deliberately. That you want to get hurt. That you think you deserve it. I get why Blake, I really do, but you need to take a long hard look in the mirror. You need to think about who you see there, because they're not a bad person. No matter what you might think of yourself."

Blake pouted. "I don't."

"You do." Under different circumstances Yang might have found the childlike petulance cute. "I know you do. And deep down you have to admit it. I know why you do as well. It's not right Blake. You can't keep blaming yourself for everything that happened."

They'd had this specific argument a hundred times, though usually not when Blake was heavily medicated. Blake always insisted that, though she might have once blamed herself, she didn't anymore. That she'd got over it. "Why are you… I don't want to talk about it." Blake's body might have been weak, but she still managed to find the strength for anger.

"Blake," Yang brushed a lock of damp hair from her forehead, "Listen to me, please. I almost lost you today. Again. It was that close Blake, and you must know it. I'm sick of it. How many times have I had to patch you up? It's not fair on me and it's not fair on you either. You don't have to keep putting yourself in these situations. You have nothing to atone for."

"You're talking crap." Blake tried to rise. It only took one hand for Yang to stop her.

"I'm not. You think if you sacrifice yourself enough it will even the scales. Well guess what Blake? It won't, because they're already even. All these things you torture yourself over, and don't even try telling me you don't; I share a tent with you. I bet you don't even know what you talk about in your sleep?"

Over and over again, night after night, Blake muttered in her sleep, cried out. Yang had been forced to listen to so many of her nightmares, of her fears, of the regrets that continued to haunt her. Yang understood Blake's subconscious, possibly more than Blake did herself.

"What Ozpin did, that is not on you. Not on any of us. Don't you think I've thought the same thing? I worked for it as well, but he kept us in the dark. No one could have predicted that."

Blake's face contorted in pain, her usual stoicism replaced by every emotion she felt. She gave a harsh laugh which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Blake blamed herself for not seeing what would happen. Not working it out. Not preventing the massacre. She felt responsible.

In the aftermath Yang had as well. She'd worked towards allowing the city to be retaken and it had resulted in that. But unlike Blake she'd come to the realisation that it was inevitable. Her actions might have sped up the schedule of the invasion, but it would have happened anyway. That particular burden of guilt did not rest on her shoulders.

With great care Yang wiped the phlegm from her lips and then continued as if uninterrupted. "What you did before in the White Fang. You were a kid Blake. You made some bad decisions, but they weren't just yours. You can't keep blaming yourself for them. You've got to put it behind you. And as for the pregnancy ̶ ̶ "

"Stop!" Blake hissed. Yang recoiled slightly. Blake might have been sick and heavily drugged, but it did nothing to dull her anger. In the last two years that was the one subject that they had never spoken about. The one subject that Blake had kept bottled and festering inside of her. It wasn't healthy, but Yang could understand. She wouldn't rush Blake, but she hoped one day she would be able to talk about it.

"Fair enough. I won't mention it, but if you ever want to, I'll be here." Yang paused for a moment gathering her thoughts for a different tactic. "You've got to see it from my point of view. I see you throw yourself into the most dangerous situations time and time again and half the time I can't even get you out. That pisses me off. I've told you before how much I hate being powerless. That's how I feel when I see you do all this. I just want to help."

"There's nothing to help." She was doing everything she could not to look at Yang.

Blake's dismissal of her nearly dying stoked the embers of her anger. "Fine. There's nothing to help. I'm just imagining all of this. You're not currently lying there with a dozen different wounds."

"It was just a hunt."

"Yeah it was, but I'm not hurt. I recognise that's partly because of you, but there has got to a middle ground Blake. You've got to trust me." Trust was the foundation of any partnership.

"I do." Her words were surprisingly forceful as she tried, and failed, to sit up again.

"It doesn't much feel like that at the moment. You didn't need to save me. I could have got out of the way of the tail, and even if I didn't I still had most of my Aura left. I can take hits with the best of them. All you did was put yourself in danger for nothing and it almost cost both of us.

"Say we didn't have any anti-venom, or we'd already used it all up. Do you think I would have just left you to die? Because you know I wouldn't have. I would have tried to carry you to the nearest settlement and I probably wouldn't have made it. You would have only succeeded in killing us both."

It was a guilt trip, pure and simple, but that didn't stop it from working.

"I'm sorry."

"Blake, I told you before I don't want to hear it. You can say it a million times and it doesn't matter in the slightest if you're just going to keep doing the same thing. I don't want to keep having to stitch you, bandage you, and I don't want to lose you either."

The truth was Blake had said it a million times, or at least it felt that way. They'd had this conversation a million times. In the aftermath of their hunts, with Blake's mind clouded with her injuries and medication, she was actually open to her. Yang could have a conversation with the person behind the façade Blake usually wore. It was an ultimately futile exercise. Blake never remembered. Never remembered her sorrow or her promises.

Despite the futility Yang ploughed on. With the sluice gates of her heart open, there was no stopping the outpouring torrent. "You're the most special person I have left. What we have… it's all kind of messed up. We've been through too much for it to be simple. But we're still together, still partners. That's incredible really. I'm not going to ask you to promise. We both know that isn't worth much. You've promised me before. All I'm going to ask is that next time you decide to risk yourself, just spare a second and think of me. Of what you'd be putting me through."

Yang saw the daggers of her words sink home. Blake might not have remembered when she was injured or drunk, but they weren't the only times Yang had told her to be careful. Blake never was.

"This definitely isn't the time, but I'm seriously beginning to doubt we'll ever have a good one." She brushed a stray hair from Blake's cheek. "I like you Blake. You know that. I told you before. I also have a pretty good idea as to how you feel towards me. I've seen you looking." Yang smirked and Blake's cheeks grew just a little redder. "So how about I give you a little extra incentive?

"You once blackmailed me. I'm going to return the favour. It's honestly something I'm nervous about. I don't want to ruin what we have now, but I don't want to lose you even more. So here it is. We can make a go of this, if you want to, but only if you start treating me as an equal. Not as someone you need to protect. From now on we share the risks fully, as we should have been doing. It's up to you."

This was not how Yang had imagined this scene playing out. She'd had plenty of time. Ever since that mistake three years ago, and Blake's proposition afterwards, there'd been times when they'd both had urges. But they'd never acted on them. Never thought the time was right. It definitely wasn't at the moment.

With Blake lying shivering and wounded in the middle of a desert, it wasn't exactly like a scene from one of her books. Blake was her captive; she couldn't just get up and say no. They would be trapped together for days whatever her answer.

It might not have been a romantic location, and Yang knew she could have been more eloquent with her words, but her tone was sincere. It came straight from the heart. Yang wanted this, and she hoped Blake did too.

Blake tried to rise only to find herself collapsing back into Yang's lap. "I do want to." Yang's heart contracted, the unknown breath she'd been holding escaping her.

"Nothing would make me happier, but I'm not accepting your answer." Blake attempted to pull away from her. No doubt believing she'd been tricked. Yang held her firm. "Not yet anyway. I don't want this decision to be affected by meds. In all honesty, I'm sure you won't remember this come morning." Yang smiled sadly. As it had before this confession would likely slip into eternity.

"I will," Blake said with a certainty Yang knew she couldn't back up.

"I hope so." Yang's fingers had found their way to the feline ears. Blake didn't often let anyone touch her there, despite people's inquisitiveness, but Yang was among the few who had prior experience. Her kneading fingers sent shivers down Blake's spine. "You must be tired."

It was as if the words had flipped a switch. Blake had appeared alert before, but the instant they were said the strain on her body took precedence. Her eyelids fluttered.

Carefully Yang set Blake's head down on the ground. The fevered skin was warm on her lips as Yang kissed her forehead just like her mum had done whenever she'd been sick. "Sleep well."

Blake lost her fight against unconsciousness. It was possible that she'd believed their entire discussion and the kiss that had ended it had been nothing more than a dream. Yang could only hope that she would consider it a good dream.


	4. Chapter 4

Jaune woke with his hands wrapped around Pyrrha's throat.

" _Kill her, kill her, kill her,"_ god demanded of him and he obeyed his god.

His thumbs found the bulge of her trachea and he pressed down. He met Pyrrha's wide eyes with a snarl. Her panic only inspired him to squeeze harder.

" _Kill her, kill her."_

He couldn't feel her fist on his side or her body thrashing under his; his world had shrunk until it contained just his hands and her throat. Every second that passed was one where he came closer to appeasing god. Their voice was all consuming. Their will absolute.

They wanted one thing from him, and he would give it to them. Pyrrha no longer drew in ragged breaths, her fingers still weakly scratched at his hands, at his face. It didn't matter. Blood vessels ruptured in her eyes painting her sclera crimson. The blue of her cheeks indicated just how close he was. His weight smothered her until the springs of the mattress had no more give. A string of saliva from his rictus mouth fell to her brow.

His hands were ripped from her as his body lurched towards the ceiling. He hit hard, cracking the plaster, and tumbled back to the bed. He immediately scrambled back towards Pyrrha intent on only one thing.

He wasn't allowed to fulfil his desire. For the second time a great invisible hand picked him up and tossed him away. This time he was thrown laterally across the room, slamming into the wall near the door. His head bounced from the brick.

God was replaced by stars. It was an immeasurable improvement. When they'd cleared he saw Pyrrha on the bed. Her shift was torn and hanging from a shoulder. She held one hand towards him defensively, the other left protecting her throat. It didn't hide the dark bruises had already blossomed.

He rolled to his knees and she flinched. The instinctive reaction tore him in two. Mostly because he knew it was entirely deserved.

"It's me." He made sure not to move. Not to terrify her any more than he already had.

It was clear she had a hard time believing him. He didn't blame her. This wasn't the first time he'd tried to kill her, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"I'm sorry." It was a hopeless apology. Nothing he said could ever make up the actions that were ultimately his own.

Pyrrha tried to drag down a deep breath, the rasping in her throat ripped at his ears. After what seemed an age she relaxed from her defensive posture, sitting back on the bed. The sight of her there ̶ ̶ legs drawn up to her chest, eyes running, nightgown ruined, bruises livid on her skin ̶ ̶ was one which caused the guilt to rear up inside of him. She did not appear to be a proud huntress, rather the victim of abuse. In reality she was.

For the hundredth time Jaune considered just leaving. Even a solution as drastic as that had to be better than this. He was destroying her; both of them. His experience could never compare to hers; he couldn't imagine what it was like to wake struggling for breath with hands intent on crushing the life out you, but it was hard on him as well. He had to live with the knowledge of what he'd tried to do. What, in those particular moments, he'd wanted with all his heart.

It would have been easier to just leave. Even just to disappear. Pyrrha could have gotten on with her life, and he could have tried to make the most of his second chance. He'd even voiced his thoughts and Pyrrha had always shut them down. She didn't want him to leave her again, no matter what he did to her.

Just as she didn't want him to leave now. He could see it in her eyes. They might have been red with burst vessels, but the colour didn't hide the almost bottomless pit of desperation within them. She needed him. He moved towards her as she started coughing. He couldn't quite bring himself to move into arm's reach, but he came to a stop beside the bed.

Blood sprayed onto the white sheets. It was too much. Jaune reached inside himself. He could feel himself there, the essence of his being, his soul. He'd watched Pyrrha die before and in that moment he'd changed. He'd Snapped as many referred to it. The gates of his Semblance had been unlocked.

It wasn't a flashy one ̶ ̶ some would have been disappointed with it, he wasn't though ̶ ̶ it had allowed him to save the woman he'd loved. He'd brought her back from the brink, and had been willing to sacrifice himself to do it. When he healed someone with his Semblance he pushed his Aura, his soul, inside of them. Working in tandem, they could heal wounds in a literal flash. But back in Vale he hadn't left any of his soul in reserve. He'd had a singular goal that had consumed him and had ultimately broken the bonds he'd held to his own body. Offered the chance, even knowing everything that would happen, he'd do it again. The mathematics of that particular equation had been easy to solve.

Now though, he had a little more finesse. He knew how to anchor his soul while he poured part of it away. In his time spent in the agony of purgatory he'd had plenty of time to practice. There was no way Pyrrha would have been able to survive her numerous injuries without him helping her. He could do that now.

"Pyrrha, if you want?" He reached out an arm towards her; contact made it easier.

He managed to catch the moment when she forced herself not to flinch. "N…" she coughed again, "No. Save it for later." Her voice was hoarse and broken. Much like his heart.

It was a good excuse. The injuries he'd inflicted on Pyrrha weren't life-threatening despite his intent, and healing someone else was much harder than doing the same to himself. It sometimes took him days to recover what he'd used up. It was true they might need it later, but it wasn't why she said it.

She didn't want to feel the touch of his flesh on her skin. It was understandable. He backed away. No matter how many times he'd promised himself this was the last,  _god_  always managed to speak to him again.

It wasn't really god; he could at least recognise that. It was just the only way he had come to think of the desire that came over him. Whatever subroutine Joseph had written into the code that ran his mechanical body was all-encompassing. The voice came from everywhere, inside and out; it echoed throughout his mind and from the vaults of the sky. When he heard it like that, he could only obey, only try and appease the deity that spoke to him. It wasn't even as if he could say he was a helpless passenger. It was  _he_  who wanted to kill Pyrrha, no one else.

If only he had more strength he could avoid it. The problem was he let his guard down. Right at this moment the voice was shut in a corner of his mind, but he had to sleep sometime. As he himself had found, in between a person's slumber and cognisance they were easier to manipulate.

For the most part he'd been a helpless passenger in Pyrrha's body. Watching through her eyes as she tore Atlas apart in her quest. She hadn't heard his pleas. At best he'd managed to whisper to her subconscious and persuaded her to spare someone whose life she would otherwise have taken. Those few acts hadn't managed to balance the scales.

His most triumphant moment had come when in Calypso when Pyrrha had fallen asleep with a scroll at her side. As her brain had broken from REM sleep for a few precious seconds he'd managed to influence her significantly more than normal. The short message to Nora hadn't been much, but he'd at least thought he'd managed to save Pyrrha from her self-destructive spiral.

It wasn't to be. He'd watched, almost felt himself, attack Ren and put a blade to Nora's throat. His desperate cries had been lost in the labyrinth of Pyrrha's grief-rent mind. His relief when she'd relented had been short lived. Rather than talk sense into her, his old teammates had joined her on her godforsaken quest. His last throw of the dice had failed.

He supposed he should have been pleased. Not only was he truly alive, but Pyrrha was as well. As much as he tried to change that. His android body was strong, much stronger than his old one had been. It was a cruel irony. He'd always wanted to be the powerful hero, and now he was helpless to prevent himself from using that power against his friend.

Her Aura had provided scant protection from his cybernetic grip. The bruise on her neck had spread almost all the way around its circumference. It was a clearly visible sign of his crime, and one which, even with the help of an Aura, likely wouldn't fade for days.

Pyrrha noticed him staring. "I know it wasn't you. It's fine. It doesn't hurt." She was lying, trying to appease him. If it didn't hurt why did she sound like a life-long chain smoker? She always did that, played off his attacks as if they were nothing. Even when he'd stabbed her she'd shrugged it off. He was just thankful her Semblance allowed her to marshal him easily.

He nodded; it was the only answer he could give. Pyrrha rose from the bed and worked up the courage to walk towards him. She took his hands in hers. The ones which a few short minutes ago had been intent on ending her life. From this close the remnants of his attack were much more vivid. He could see the bands of darkness where each of his fingers had pressed against her flesh, each burst vessel in her eyes. He hated himself, and he hated her for being able to forgive him time and time again.

"We'll work something out Jaune. We'll get through this," Pyrrha tried to sound convincing, but with her in that state she was anything but. He'd never be able to control  _god_ , and one day he would succeed in carrying out god's wishes. They both knew that it was only a matter of probability. "I'm going to go and freshen up."

Jaune let Pyrrha pull her hands from his. He hadn't gripped them anyway. He was too scared of hurting her again. Most of his time his body felt like just that. It was sometimes easy to forget he no longer had an organic one.

The scientists at Enerdyne had been intent on creating an android that was indistinguishable from a person and it was the little touches that really showed their intent. He sweated, in his sleep he drooled, he even got hungry. The food and drink likely didn't actually do anything, but it still had to come out the other end. He doubted anyone would know he wasn't real unless he told them.

He knew though. Most of time his body might have felt normal, but it wasn't. His strength, his reaction times, his speed, they were all far superior. And that was before he accessed the other function in his body.

With a thought he was able to track targets across a battlefield, change the spectrum of his vision, open up the hollow in his back and extract the weapons within. He could do things now that were truly remarkable. Things that he'd once dreamed about. But it came with a heavy cost.

Almost two years had passed since Pyrrha had transferred his soul to this body. She'd changed in that time. Grown, matured. As young as she was none of the differences were obvious, but they were there. Pyrrha had aged, he hadn't. Not in the slightest. He hadn't even needed to visit a barber. He appeared identical to the day they'd found his body.

That was what haunted him most when he couldn't sleep. Was he now immortal? He guessed not, not in the truest sense of the word. He was a machine, and without maintenance eventually machines would break. He didn't even know how he was powered. There was no easy port for Dust. No indicator. One day he might just run out.

In all honesty he would find that preferable to the alternative. Where he would be forced to watch, as year on year, Pyrrha and the rest of his friends grew older. He would see the lines on their faces grow, hear as their joints began to click, notice as the grey hairs multiplied, and all the while he would still be a teenager. He would have to watch his sisters mature, get married, have children, and eventually pass away. If his body didn't fail, he would be alone throughout eternity.

He had no clue how he was going to explain it to his family when the time came. They'd been too overjoyed to question his explanation as to why the reports of his death had been a mistake. His mother didn't know he no longer resided in the body she'd given birth to. The fewer people who knew what Pyrrha had done the better.

It had been a risk for him to visit his family anyway. Pyrrha wasn't wanted publicly, but that his body had obviously been designed with her death in mind showed just what Joseph intended for her. The pair of them were in hiding.

Atlas wasn't safe, and at the moment neither was Vale. They'd been left with two choices and in the end Mistral had won out. Being back in Pyrrha's native country had helped in her recovery, as did the fact her own parents were only a few hours away.

That had been another difficult reunion. It was clear to him that they loved her immensely ̶ ̶ he'd heard from Ren how they'd reacted to the news that Pyrrha had vanished ̶ ̶ but at the same time he wasn't sure just how much they'd mourned Pyrrha, and how much they'd mourned the loss of a perfect daughter.

It wasn't just good fortune that Pyrrha had grown up to be a champion fighter, it was what her parents had ordained for her. Pyrrha had once told him how she'd had to get up at five in the morning every day to train before school and then spend the rest of her evening doing more. By the time she was old enough to attend Sanctum she'd already had more combat experience than those who were graduating. It wasn't surprising she was able to break records.

Descended from one of the old Atlesian traders that had landed and subsequently settled on Mistral centuries ago, Pyrrha's family was well off, but her parents had made the most of their daughter's star status. Her limited free time had been taken up by photoshoots, fan greetings, and other marketing opportunities.

Her parents had grown rich off their daughter and they still expected to. They didn't understand why she'd withdrawn from the limelight? Why she'd changed her instantly recognisable appearance that they'd cultivated? Why she seemed content with mediocrity?

The arguments were likely why Pyrrha had refused their offer of a flat in Helios and had desired to move inland away from the coastal city. It was where most of the Grimm were anyway. Where people needed them most.

Ozpin might have succeeded in completely eliminating the White Fang and ensuring that no organisation would rise from its ashes, but the broadcast of the slaughter had also sowed seeds across the world. In the two years that had passed the Grimm were more active than ever, more numerous, and more dangerous.

With the newly founded Valesh Military, the hunters, and assistance from Atlas, Vale might have been winning in their war against them, but Mistral couldn't say the same. So far Atlas had refused to sell them military technology such as the Knights that could have taken the place of those on the frontline. The Mistralian Council was forced to play catch-up. They'd signed research agreements with Vacuo and had designated additional funding, but that wouldn't help them in the short term.

Entire villages had been overrun. Their inhabitants slaughtered. It was that which stopped Jaune from asking his family to join him. Vale might have been too dangerous for him and Pyrrha, but it was safer than here.

He'd done his best, they all had, and it was never good enough. They'd fought off an attack only to hear later that they'd been needed elsewhere as well. No matter how many Grimm he and all the other hunters operating in Mistral killed it didn't seem to make a difference. There were always more. The Mistralian people were scared and that terror drew the Grimm.

He and Pyrrha had only returned to Sānguó yesterday. They'd spent almost an entire week purging the area around a village of Grimm. It had been exhausting for her and mentally so for him. His body itself didn't get tired, but his mind still did. It was likely that which had lowered his defences enough to make him susceptible to the code buried within him.

Pyrrha emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was damp from her shower. He'd never tell her he'd preferred it crimson. The first time he'd seen her back in the hall at Beacon it had made her stand out. It was as if all the others in the crowd had been blank silhouettes. Pyrrha was still striking with it black and cut shorter, but it wasn't the same.

She'd dressed smartly in dark pants, a blouse, and a jacket. A silk scarf was wrapped around her neck. It hid the bruises, but not from him. He knew they were there.

"We don't have to go out if you don't want to," he said. He was only thinking of her and the trauma he'd caused, but she put her hands on her hips.

"Why wouldn't we?"

"Because… you know," he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Jaune, I've told you, I'm fine. This is the first proper day off we've had in weeks. I've been looking forward to it. We've already paid for the tickets; we may as well enjoy them."

A smile took some of the sting from her harsh tone, some, but not all. She clearly wanted to put this morning firmly in the past just as she had all the other  _incidents_. Any further conversation was curtailed as she began blow-drying her hair.

The noise of the small motor grated on him and he turned down the sensitivity of his ears ̶ ̶ being an android did have certain perks. In the last two years, while trying to restore a sense of normalcy to their lives Pyrrha had bought him numerous clothes. She was intent on improving his, self-admitted, lacklustre sense of style. He attempted to think what outfit would complement Pyrrha's before giving up and choosing his shirt and pants at random. He changed in the room; it wasn't like Pyrrha hadn't seen it all before anyway.

She was watching when he turned around. "Good choice. I was thinking we should go out for breakfast. There's that place on the river we always pass by. We could try it out."

Jaune shrugged. "Sure." He wasn't particularly feeling up to it, but, today of all days he'd agree with anything Pyrrha wanted to do.

"Great. Let's go then."

* * *

 

Breakfast hadn't actually been that bad. He'd never eaten all that much Mistralian food before Beacon. Ren had done his best to introduce him to some of the recipes of his ancestors, but living in the middle of Sānguó he was gaining a new appreciation for the food. Just like all his other senses, his taste was still there only enhanced. If he wanted to he was able to analyse every separate ingredient in a meal. It was normally a function that he left turned off.

Pyrrha had enjoyed the assorted diǎnxīn as well. It had been obvious that she'd had trouble swallowing the dumplings, but she'd struggled through the pain. He knew that mere physical discomfort wasn't likely to stop her from doing anything.

When they'd left their apartment the streets might have been close to empty, but they were filling up now. The outer villages around the city might have had the ever-present danger of the Grimm lying over them, but within the walls at this precise moment in time most of the shoppers were only worrying about where to get the best bargain.

Pyrrha was too. Her parents might have been paying for their apartment, but they still had to watch just how much they spent. Even without the need for combat supplies and repairs from their numerous hunts, food wasn't free. Neither of them wanted to have to rely on charity forever.

To Jaune's eyes it seemed as if everyone on the street was staring at him, or more accurately Pyrrha and then him. In the morning she might have got away with the scarf, but it was much too hot to be wearing one now. Coupled with her large sunglasses it led people to wonder just what she was hiding. Most thought they knew. His enhanced hearing was able to pick up some of the mutters from the peoplewho thought they should take the situation into their own hands and teach him a lesson.

At one point it would have horrified him to be thought of amongst such vile company. Growing up with seven sisters ̶ ̶ most older, a couple younger ̶ ̶ had ensured that he would never have thought of laying a hand on a woman in that way. Now though, he knew he fully deserved their angry remarks and more. In all honesty, Pyrrha did act like an abused spouse. She should have said enough was enough, but instead she just kept forgiving him.

For her sake he tried to match her level of enthusiasm. It was hard. The world had grown much darker in the last few years and he with it. He'd seen things which could never be unseen; been party to things which could never be undone. They constantly weighed on his mind.

It was a relief when Pyrrha turned to him after they left the latest in a long sequence of clothes shops. "Do you mind taking the bags back to our flat? And there's also a few things I need you to pick up from the store." She tucked a list of groceries into his breast pocket as his hands were full.

"What? What are you going to be doing?" He'd thought they were meant to be spending the day together.

"I wanted to get my hair done before tonight. It's a mess after last week. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Of course not." He didn't, this day was meant to be all about her. "Where do you want to meet?"

"Umm… Huánghūn Plaza. It's nearby. My hair will probably take over an hour so there's no need for you to hurry."

"Sure," he knew where it was. "Enjoy yourself."

"I will." She leant in and kissed him. It managed to raise a spark within him, but that was all. Jaune watched her depart. The reason why she was able to forgive him constantly was obvious; she loved him.

It saddened him to admit he wasn't sure if the opposite was true anymore. He'd definitely loved her once, true love, but then again she had been his first proper love. Not just a crush or an infatuation with someone well out of his league, but something which was infinitely more. A single moment with Pyrrha had once brought him more joy than anything else he'd experienced. Where had it all gone?

He was sure he still loved her somewhere, but at the same time even a kiss hardly managed to make his heart flutter. It might have been because he didn't actually have a heart in this body. At some points he wondered if that was it. That a machine simply wasn't capable of love. But he also knew that wasn't the truth.

The reunion with his family had been more than proof of that. Love didn't come from a muscle; it came from the core of himself. The issues between him and Pyrrha transcended mere biology. He'd sacrificed himself to give her another chance, and in doing so had unleashed something terrible on the world.

In his transient state he hadn't been privy to Pyrrha's thoughts just as she'd been unable to hear his cries. He didn't know just what had been going through her mind on her crusade, but he'd witnessed the results. Pyrrha had killed and killed again. She might have been able to justify some of them, but many had been innocents. Guards who'd taken a job to feed their families, scientists who were working to cure diseases. To Pyrrha it hadn't mattered. They'd all been part of the machine and equally culpable.

Witnessing that slaughter would have been bad enough, but he hadn't just witnessed it. He hadn't been an idle passenger. Pyrrha had used her Aura to power her Semblance and had instinctively drawn on his as well. He hadn't had a say in the matter. His soul had been as much a part to the murders as hers.

He'd never told her that. Never told her how she'd sullied him, but that was how he felt. He'd never killed anyone before, and now he had the blood of hundreds on his hands. His love for her had also been stained. It was his love which had saved her in Vale. It had continued to persuade him to heal her when she'd needed it. He could have let her die from her wounds numerous times, but he hadn't. He was to blame for the deaths just as much as she was.

From Pyrrha's point of view the impossible had happened. She'd believed she was avenging his death and instead he'd been brought back to her. It wasn't surprising she'd clung onto him ever since.

It was for her well-being that he'd stayed by her, pretended that nothing was wrong. He hadn't been privy to her thoughts, but he'd been able to hear her speak. Hear her confess to Nora that she hated him for what he'd done to her. It was just an additional layer on his guilt.

His decision to revive her had at the same time destroyed the person she'd been. The person who he'd fallen in love with. That was his fault and he felt obliged to fix it. His presence helped Pyrrha and though he wasn't sure if he loved her anymore he still cared about her immensely. Sometimes it was hard, but he pushed himself through it. No matter what happened they were still partners, and it was his hope that one day his feelings might return.

* * *

 

It only took him about half the time Pyrrha had suggested to do the shopping, so he decided to take the scenic route back to their meeting place. He liked exploring the city; it was just so different from where he'd grown up. Even the modern world had failed to entirely eliminate the traditional architecture. The materials might have been replaced by more fire-retardant ones, but the symmetry and flared roofs remained. When their busy schedules of hunts had coincided, Ren had taken them on tours. He might have only visited Sānguó when he was younger, but he knew almost everything there was to know about it.

Jaune had just crossed into one of the less reputable sectors of the city when he heard a voice. It was faint, but his ears picked it up.

"Is that really all you have?" Pyrrha said from some distance away.

That was another useful feature of his body. He'd been able to give the voices of Pyrrha and the rest of his teammate's preference. He was able to hear any words they uttered even across a battlefield full of roars and explosions, or through a maze of crowded alleyways. The words weren't entirely clear ̶ ̶ his body was only able to enhance what soundwaves came to it and there was a lot of interference ̶ ̶ but it was unmistakably her and this was not an area where he expected to find many salons.

He started to move towards the direction of the sound. He wasn't stupid. She'd lied to him. There hadn't been enough time for her to get her hair done, and there was no reason why she should be here, not unless she'd been taken by the same urge to walk. She was up to something which didn't involve him. That was what really grated; it was clear she didn't trust him.

A lone person walking through this part of the city might have been a tempting target, especially wearing smart clothes and appeared unarmed, but though many thought about it, something stopped them. He'd lost the slumped posture that many taller teenagers adopted; he walked with his back straight and without fear. He knew exactly what the outcome of any attempted mugging would be and so did anyone who met his gaze.

They would have seen the same in Pyrrha. He might have been strong, but she was terrifying. There was perhaps no one on the planet that was able to match her, but there were plenty who could enrage her; and someone was obviously doing their best at this precise moment. It was easier for him to hear her now.

"I paid you and you come back to me with this?"

"Don't raise your voice with me," a deep voice snapped back at her.

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it?" He'd heard that tone before. He started to run.

"Look miss you're all alone here. Keep a civil tongue in your head or you'll make me do something I'll regret."

"Try it." Jaune hit a dead-end and ran back along his path. Pyrrha was close.

"Fine. Have it your way, boys." Bones broke. Men cried out in pain.

Pyrrha's voice remained unchanged. "Now why don't we discuss what I expected for the money I gave you?"

"You're crazy." The man grunted in pain. "Shit that hurts."

"Maybe I am, but in that case it should give you an even larger incentive not to piss me off." Jaune finally rounded a corner and found the particular alley that they were in. "So tell me what you found out about Joseph. All of it this time."

Jaune skidded to a halt at the name. Joseph. Pyrrha hadn't given up her quest, and she was still prepared to do almost anything in its pursuit. Thankfully the information broker's guards weren't dead, but they were holding snapped fingers against their chests. Like so many before them, they'd made a mistake of drawing a weapon against Pyrrha.

Pyrrha herself had thrust the broker against the wall and he squirmed in her grasp. "Look I can't tell you anything more. The guy barely exists."

"Bullshit. I gave you gigabytes of data. Data you'll no doubt sell later. You're getting paid twice for this job so don't give me excuses. Where is he?"

"I don't know. Atlas maybe. You say he's the CEO of Enerdyne? Well he's not on any official listing. I might, and I stress might, have found someone who might be him, but I'm not certain by any measure."

"Then why didn't you tell me before?"

"What you've given me; if it's true it doesn't exactly make it appealing to get on their bad side. I'm a neutral. I don't make enemies. It's safer that way."

"So, you lied to me." Pyrrha's voice dropped into a very neutral tone. "You are going to have to decide which is more pressing: a possible threat in the future, or a very real one now."

Jaune readied himself to rush in. He wouldn't let Pyrrha kill again.

"Shit… Look just don't do anything else. Enerdyne's CEO, the real one, I mean the public one, has held several meetings with the Mistrali Council behind closed doors. It's all hush hush at the moment, but if my sources are correct, and they are, some scientists came to a few of them. One could be him. He matched your description."

"He's here?"

"Yes. Or at least he was. Do you see why I didn't want to tell you? If they're working with the government, I don't want to be anywhere near this. It's not worth the risks."

"You should have thought of that before you asked me to pay you upfront. I want everything you've uncovered."

For a moment it seemed as if he was going to deny her, but something made him reconsider. He might not have been able to see her eyes behind the sunglasses, but he could sense the madness they hid. "Sure." He gestured to one of his men, who reached into their pocket clumsily with his unbroken hand. The bodyguard tossed a small card to his boss. "Here you go. Everything I've got on him."

"Thank you." Pyrrha took it from him. "Now…"

"Hey," Jaune shouted. He didn't want to say her name as she was probably using a fake one, but he absolutely did not want her to complete her sentence. At one point he would have given her the benefit of the doubt. That point was long past. In his mind he only saw Pyrrha tying up loose ends.

"Ja… What are you doing here?" Pyrrha turned towards him with surprise. She's been completely oblivious to his presence and was obviously trying to work out just how much he'd overheard.

"I could ask you the same question." His voice was cold. After everything he'd done to try and restore a sense of normalcy to her life, she still insisted on all this.

Pyrrha turned away from him and addressed those watching. "You lot get out of here. And keep on digging. I will be checking in." They didn't need another chance. The woman had been bad enough. Getting in the middle of the brewing conflict between her and someone who could face her down without fear was much worse.

The two of them stared at each other; entirely unwilling to budge. Pyrrha cracked first.

"It's not what you think."

"Oh, and what do I think it is?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Because I happen to think this doesn't look much like a salon. I happen to think you lied to me. And I happen to think that nothing I've said to you has meant anything."

"That's not true. It means everything. I love you Jaune. I'm doing this for us!"

"And how is that? Do you think we can bond over killing someone else."

"I don't want to kill him," Pyrrha nearly shouted.

"What?" That didn't make sense. As soon as she'd met Joseph, Pyrrha had been focussed on little else.

"I don't want to kill him," she repeated. "Jaune. He's perhaps the only person who knows about you. About your body. He'd be able to help… unprogram… that voice in your head. You've said it yourself, we need to come up with a solution. Well this is the only thing I've been able to think of. Where's yours?" Pyrrha retorted.

Jaune couldn't answer. He didn't have one. Not really. Not one which would have been acceptable to her. All of his involved leaving.

She took his silence as his answer. "Exactly. This is our only option."

"What makes you think he'll even help us?" It might have slipped Pyrrha's notice, but Joseph wanted her dead as well.

"Jaune, I'm not stupid. I know he won't willingly. That doesn't mean this is a pointless though. He might lead us to some of the other scientists who worked with him; they might be able to help. Or if worse comes to worst we'll have to force him."

The thought of someone digging around in his head at gunpoint was not a particularly pleasant one, but Pyrrha's other suggestion did have some merit. Surely not every scientist working on project Persephone was entirely evil. Sure they had to be cold to be able to ignore the screams of their subjects, but maybe some got through it by telling themselves it was for the greater good. There might be a sympathetic ear to his plight among them.

Maybe Pyrrha had thought this through, but it still didn't excuse her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He was still furious about that.

"I knew you'd stop me."

"You're damn right I would have. We're meant to be in hiding. What do you think that guy's going to do after your demonstration? He's going to try and find out who just beat up his two guards. And you know that once he does he'll probably sell the information. I bet Enerdyne has deeper pockets than you do. You've put all of us in danger."

"Stop being so dramatic. I used a fake name and paid in cash. He saw what my Semblance can do, so what? It could be a dozen different things, and what it actually is still isn't in the public domain. I've checked."

That would have taken Pyrrha some time. She had something of an online presence. It wasn't just the page on the encyclopaedia site, there were numerous fan groups as well. There were sites that analysed competitive fighters, and she even had a profile on RHDB.  _The Invincible Girl_  was all kinds of famous.

"He won't be able to link me to what happened here. You don't have to worry."

"It was still stupid. The public might not know, but so far Joseph hasn't done anything in public. He might have put the word out on the underground. The underground that you've gotten involved with. Do you really think he hasn't been looking for us?"

"It's fine," Pyrrha said with exasperation. "He's not going to find us, and so what if he does?"

"So what!" Jaune reined in his temper. Whether he liked it or not, Pyrrha had changed from the girl he'd first met. They all changed. It was just that Pyrrha had changed for the worse. She could still be sweet. In those moments his faded love for her rekindled. But moments like this dowsed it entirely.

In his time spent in her body he'd seen far too much. Experienced far too much.  _The Invincible Girl_  would never have broken the fingers of two men just to make a point; whoever Pyrrha was now had. And the Pyrrha he'd once known wouldn't have sounded so nonchalant about someone they'd been hiding from finding them.

"Is that what you want?" He couldn't help but feel it was.

Pyrrha turned away from him. "No, it's just…" she turned back to him and met his eyes, "We're the only ones who know. Know it all. About him, about what he's doing, about the Tinmen… And we're not doing anything about it. We should be."

Jaune grimaced at the name popular culture had selected for those like him. Tinmen. Cold and unfeeling. He was anything but. He was sure the others were as well. They hadn't asked for this; they'd been torn from their old lives and thrust into another body. One in which choice did not exist for them. He was sure that was the only reason they were so content to be Ozpin's enforcers ̶ ̶ some were little more than children.

The problem was that they couldn't do anything about it. Not unless they desired to start along that dark path once again. They'd left war behind. The Grimm were bad, but at least he didn't have nightmares about killing them. If Joseph had founded new facilities they would not be guarded by monsters.

It was difficult. He was a hunter. He'd sworn an oath to stand against evil wherever he found it, but to do so he would have to commit evil. There wasn't any other way of looking at it. Killing was wrong, no matter the circumstances. Ultimately everything was a question of balance. Was it acceptable to commit a small evil to counter a larger one? That was a question that many faced, and few could answer. Pyrrha was one of the few.

"You must feel it too. He's not done with us. We can't hide forever. Especially with…" she clearly didn't want to mention his problems.

The worst thing was that Jaune had felt that. He'd known it ever since he'd seen the slaughter of the White Fang in Vale. Seen those like him take part. Joseph wouldn't be content to allow one of his inventions run around untethered.

"Pyrrha… haven't you had enough?" His question was heartfelt. No matter if it appeared that the universe was guiding him towards Joseph again, sometimes it was just one step too far. He couldn't live through that again.

His question may have been born of frustration and regret, but Jaune immediately knew that Pyrrha had misunderstood.

"Enough? I've had enough of you trying to kill me. Of closing my eyes and wondering if I I'm ever going to open them again."

"Then why do you want me to stay?"

"Because I love you! Because as bad as this is, I know it would be worse without you. I couldn't face spending my days alone knowing you were somewhere else. I lost you once. I'm not going to lose you again. Not to this. Not to anything."

There was a madness in her eyes. A deep-seated need that transcended a healthy relationship. Pyrrha was telling the truth. She wouldn't lose him again. No matter what. After everything she'd done, after knowing what she was capable of, Jaune pitied anyone who found themselves between her and her goal. Himself included. Even Joseph.

He'd stayed with her for her sake. To try and guide her along the road to recovery. To try and help her rediscover the person she'd been. The huntress who had once been a role model to so many. They'd made progress, but he could recognise that person was dead. She'd died alongside him in Vale.

There were still traces of her, flashes of the girl he'd fallen in love with, but then there were moments like this. Moments that reminded him of just how damaged they both were. In reality, even now, they were suited to each other.

"I know. I'm not going anywhere. But… I don't want to do this again. I can't." He really couldn't. His shoulders were already buckling from the weight of guilt.

She took his hand and squeezed it. "I know. I'm not asking you to. I will do this. I'll find him. I'll plan it. I'll make sure it's not… like last time. You'll only have to be there at the end."

Two years ago he would have instantly refuted the notion of allowing her to go alone. Two years was a long time. He could only nod. Pyrrha took it as assent.

"We'll work this out Jaune. I promise you."

It was an empty one. Nothing in the world was definite. But for Pyrrha, where she had the will, she would make it a reality. If she set her mind to it, she had the strength to move the world. And for him, Jaune knew that was exactly what she intended to do.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"There you are," Ruby said twisting her leg so she could look at the back of her thigh.

The black worm pressed up against her skin might have appeared to be a leech to the uninitiated, but it wasn't. She had plenty of experience to attest to that. Whereas a leech would drink its fill of blood before detaching, Clingers would just hang on. Left to their own devices they would suck until there was nothing left.

To be fair when compared to other Grimm they might not be terrifying, she might have joked about them when being regaled with one of Port's old stories, but they were still Grimm. They were still dangerous.

Ruby poked it with a finger. It had very little armour to speak of, just a few chitin plates. Most of it was soft, moist, and utterly disgusting. She shivered. It was almost possible to feel its malevolence.

Normally she was careful, but this was just a situation that couldn't be avoided. There were too many streams to wade across, rivers to swim through. Judging by the Clinger's size it hadn't been feeding for very long, it had probably latched onto her when fording the last pool.

At least her shorts were tight enough to prevent it feeding any further up her leg. The thought of having a Grimm in her underwear was not one which she wished to entertain for long. Not that it would have been much more unpleasant than the current situation where all her clothes were drenched. There was almost no chance of them drying either.

The rainforest wouldn't let them. It was the one thing she hadn't been prepared for. She'd done research, brought all the necessary supplies, chosen her route, but never had she imagined her greatest adversary would be a simple number. The air was hot most definitely, but it was the humidity that was the killer.

This deep into the largest rainforest on the planet she was pretty sure the relative humidity rarely dropped below three figures. Most of the time she had to trek through a low-hanging mist. After almost two weeks she'd accepted it as her lot. Her clothes were wet when she put them on in the morning, and wet when she took them off late into the night.

It was why she'd followed the advice online and had gone for a minimalistic approach to her attire. Boots, shorts, and a tank top. The outfit left plenty of room for her skin to breathe, and her Aura protected her from any of the sharp plants in the undergrowth. But as she had before, she was left regretting the choice now.

Aura didn't seem to matter to the Clingers; they were able to sink their jaws into her flesh regardless. With the way they numbed the skin, there was a chance she wouldn't even have noticed if she didn't take pains to check whenever she stopped. Most days she only had to contend with regular leeches, and they were easy enough to deal with; a quick spray of insect repellent was enough to persuade them to find another meal. Their cousins though, required a different approach.

Ruby extracted a stick from her campfire. Its end glowed orange. There were few things in the world that the Grimm feared, but fire was one of them. She used her other hand to pull the Clinger taut and with excruciating carefulness pressed the tip of the stick as close to its head as she dared.

Flesh sizzled. Though the heat of the smouldering branch was uncomfortable for her, it would be a million times worse for the Clinger. Not that she felt sorry for it. It was a Grimm after all, and it existed to see her dead.

The Clinger managed to hold on that intent for a few more seconds before its jaws spasmed open. As it fell to the ground Ruby scooped it up and tossed it into the centre of the campfire. She did not want to give it the opportunity to exact its revenge in the middle of the night. The Clinger shrivelled from the heat and the stench of burning blood wafted to her.

Ruby resisted the urge to gag. It brought back all manner of memories that were better left buried. Hallways covered in gore. Ghosts that haunted her still.

To distract herself she turned back to her leg. Crimson leaked steadily from the open wound. The anti-coagulant in the Clinger's saliva ensured it wouldn't close of its own accord for some time. It didn't hurt as she applied a salve to it though, so that was at least something to be grateful for. Ruby made sure she was thorough. An open wound in a rainforest was asking for an infection; a wound given by a Grimm only exacerbated the chances. Out here, without support, and hundreds of miles from the nearest settlement there would be no hope if she succumbed to illness.

Confident that she'd cleaned it as thoroughly as she was able to Ruby taped gauze over the bite and sat down. With luck and a bit of encouragement her Aura should have healed it by the morning. After all day spent fighting her way through the undergrowth it was a relief to finally take the weight off her feet.

Unclipping Crescent Rose from her belt she set it down next to her. She might have been fiercely proud of her weapon, but she had to admit it perhaps wasn't suited to her current scenario. The numerous alterations and improvements made over the years had only added to its bulk. The weight of it dragged her down all day and it was constantly getting tangled in branches. Not that she would have considered leaving it behind for a moment. The rainforests were dangerous. If Clingers were the worst she saw on the expedition, she would be greatly relieved.

Her dinner was just as uninspiring as it was every other night. She tried to mix it up, give herself some variety, but at the end of the day all MREs tasted more or less the same. The Atlesian government was not particularly concerned with the culinary requirements of its troops. As long as the soldiers got enough calories for the minimal cost that was a tick in their book.

As Ruby forced down another mouthful of something that said it was mashed potatoes she had to admit it could have been worse. At least she had food to eat, not to mention it was hot. Having to forage on top of all her other tribulations would have been asking too much of herself.

In all honesty, this trip wasn't all that bad. She'd never been anywhere like this before, surrounded by trees taller than most buildings, with burgeoning life all around. It was an experience, and one which she knew that Yang would have loved.

Ruby would have given almost anything to have her sister by her side right now, or just to know that she was ok. But it was an impossible wish. They were both criminals wanted by the country they had shed blood and more to defend. Yang wasn't active on any of her social media profiles and hadn't been since she'd disappeared. Without a number or address, there was no way for the two of them to get in contact. The only possibility was a physical message.

On Patch there were several places that held special memories to the pair of them. Places from their childhood. A secret cave that they'd found when exploring, a lake they'd always used for swimming, a copse of trees that they'd used for many mock battles. When she'd been on the island Ruby had left notes in all of them, anywhere she thought Yang or her family might look.

It had been useless anyway. Either they hadn't returned to Patch or they hadn't found her notes. The anonymous email account she'd set up remained empty. It was highly unlikely they were in Vale anyway. They would have run into the same problems she had.

The Tinman from the village had pursued her relentlessly. She hadn't been able to sleep for over thirty-six hours; hadn't even been able to stop moving. Nothing would have stopped it from capturing her. Nothing apart from the Vacuan border. She'd never thought she would be so relieved to step over an imaginary line, but in that instant she'd felt the same elation numerous fictional outlaws had before her. The Tinmen were acting in an official capacity of Vale, and an encroachment into the sovereign territory of another nation trumped even its desire to capture her. The border might have been an imaginary line to her, but to the Tinman it had been a wall.

After that she'd slept for eighteen hours straight before gathering her bearings and deciding on her next move. It was an easy decision. Her time in Vale had not been spent lackadaisically wandering from settlement to settlement, and she was not in this rainforest on a whim. In the last year she'd rediscovered her purpose.

It perhaps wasn't much of one. It wasn't as rewarding as seeing the looks of gratitude on the faces of the people she'd saved, but she knew it was important. Even if many wouldn't have seen it as such. At one time, she would have been among her own doubters. How often had she fallen asleep in Oobleck's classes? There wasn't much to be learned from history, or so she'd once thought.

Her position had been reversed by one of the smartest people she knew, or more accurately from a book they'd once given her. Blake's gift for her sixteenth birthday had been so thoughtful. She'd always enjoyed tales of heroes winning against insurmountable odds, and Blake had given her a book full of stories she'd never so much as heard before.

The book was one of her most prized possessions. It was too prized to leave behind. It was currently stowed in the bottom of her rucksack in a waterproof pouch. Ruby forced her mind away from the small collection of unused coupons that resided beside it. The lovingly handwritten pieces of paper caused her incredible pain whenever she read them, but it would have hurt far more to lose them forever.

Blake's book was far too precious to read in such a humid environment, but in this case she'd thought ahead in a way that would have made Blake proud of her. She extracted the laminated copies of the pages that were her focus at the moment.

In the days since she'd lost almost everything, she'd tried to read a story every night, just something to remind her of a time when she'd been happy, and in doing so she'd started to notice a pattern. Once she knew what she was looking for it was so blindingly obvious she was incredulous that no one had seen it before.

The people of Skaerlig spoke of a great champion who'd defended them using a blade of captured lightning. The scribes of the Pavorii legion wrote of a terrible assassin who'd carved through their ranks with a weapon that cared not for armour. The legends of Elysion spoke of a hundred heroes returning to fight the oncoming horde using holy swords. Even her dad had once told her a story about a great hunter who saved a village single-handedly using a blade as white as snow which cut through Grimm with ease.

She couldn't believe she'd never made the connection either. One or two appearances would have been a coincidence. Something she could ignore. Dozens and dozens of stories and tales from civilizations over a period spanning millennia was not.

It was impossible, but in her gut she knew her instinct was right. Somehow. It could have been that Ozpin's sword was one passed down from father to son across the ages, but that wasn't the case. The legends were too far separated geographically, too distinct. No normal family would have found themselves in all those places before the invention of mass transit.

She knew people would call her crazy. If she spoke up her words would probably be enough to get her committed to a mental asylum. What she was suggesting terrified her, but she couldn't ignore it.  _Ozpin_  had never aged. He looked identical now to the photo that had been printed in the paper when he'd taken over as the headmaster of Beacon over sixty years ago. Most said it was his Semblance. She had first-hand proof it wasn't; she'd seen his Semblance in action. No, if her belief was correct, Ozpin was immortal.

His existence had been recorded by hundreds of cultures. They tale wasn't always about a great warrior; in some he was a general, a leader. Still in others he was spoken of as a mage able to cast incredible spells. She'd seen him do that as well. His Dustcraft was almost second to none. Almost, because in many of the stories he wasn't alone. Often a beautiful woman walked by his side, a sorceress who could call down torrents of fire from a clear sky, and turn forests into ash with a thought. She was in many of the stories Ozpin was not. The beautiful temptress, the cruel sorceress. History had many names for her, just as it had many names for Ozpin.

The ramifications of her discovery had kept Ruby awake at night. She'd discovered something no one else had before. Gods walked among them. Or at least that was the only way she could wrap her head around what they were. Immortal, and wielding power that made lies of the skills of hunters, she couldn't think of a name that described them better.

And these gods had been interfering in the lives of normal people for as long as there had been the written word if not longer. Were still interfering in them. Ruby didn't know what had happened to set them against each other, but in their war the gods had ripped what seemed like the entire planet apart.

Vale had been invaded and its inhabitants slaughtered by the woman, only for Ozpin to take his revenge and slaughter the White Fang in answer. It wasn't a large leap to guess that the pair of them had been behind the numerous plots in Atlas, the ones which had opened her eyes. The world was their chessboard, and they weren't even finished.

Ozpin was steadily tightening his grip on power. The Tinmen and the increased regulation of hunters had just been the start. Vale was building up its military, ignoring the legislation drafted after the Great War, and the other countries were responding in kind. Vacuo and Mistral had been welcoming with open arms the hunters who refused their new oaths. Every time she saw a newspaper or a television there were recruitment adverts. The gods weren't done yet, and through it all the Grimm were more active than ever.

Ruby might have known it was the truth, but no one would believe her. Not even her friends. It wasn't hard to see why. She'd talked to Ozpin. He'd seemed normal. A little peculiar yes, but nothing which suggested all this. Nothing that suggested he'd walked through the pages of history and had come out unscathed.

If she was going to persuade the world, she needed proof. Luckily she had a good idea where to find it, or at least places she could start looking. They were all in her book. Civilizations rose and fell, but they always left traces. It was her hope that in one of those forgotten ruins she'd find something, some hint. Something that helped her understand it all, understand just what Ozpin actually was.

When younger she'd never even contemplated the idea of becoming an archaeologist, an archaeologist with a gun admittedly, but an archaeologist none the less. In all honesty it was more enjoyable than she could have imagined. The first time she'd broken into a room that had lain untouched, with the dust of centuries piled on the floor, it had stirred something within her that she'd never felt before. It was hard to describe just what it was. A sense of wonder, of privilege, of awe. She knew that she was making history as much as uncovering it.

It was her hope that she was about to uncover more. Most people had at least heard of the civilization of the Calakmul, and it was often regarded as the 'Lost Civilization of the Calakmul.' There had been digs at remote settlements, artefacts found, but over millennia the rainforest had swallowed the capital. If it had ever existed, that is.

Ruby wasn't big-headed enough to believe she might have located it where generations had failed before her, but if her research was correct, she had. She'd had help of course, a lot of help. The margins of the book Blake had given her were filled with notes from various scholars, and likely regions had been theorised before. It had just been the case of collating all that information. Her conclusion hadn't been ground-breaking; Calakmul was probably exactly where the majority of academics thought it was.

The only reason it hadn't been rediscovered was that few people would have been willing to finance an expedition as large as would have been necessary. The archaeologists would have had to hire numerous hunters to protect them, guides to make sure they didn't get lost under the canopy, pack animals, and more. After many failed expeditions in the past, it was an expense not worth the risk when they might not find anything at the end of it.

It was something Ruby didn't have to worry about. All she needed to buy were the necessary supplies. It had taken her some time to save up enough, but she'd managed it. She could only hope the gamble paid off; if her timekeeping proved astute, she should know by tomorrow.

With that thought in mind she climbed into her hammock and set the netting over her. It was a surprisingly comfortable way of sleeping. The first few nights she'd ended up rolling out, but her cocoon was relaxing. As tired as she was it didn't take her long to fall into her dreams. As always Weiss was waiting for her.

* * *

 

Ruby hacked at the curtain of vines blocking her way. Trekking through the rainforest was hard going. Most of the time she tried to follow trails left by whatever animals lived this far from people, but sometimes those trails simply didn't exist. In those cases she had to make her own path.

Crescent Rose would have made short work of the vegetation, but she could never put her beloved through such an ordeal. Instead she'd bought a machete and, despite her limited resources, she hadn't skimped on it either. Much to the merchant's displeasure, she knew her weapons, and had known exactly what a quality blade looked like. It had been worth the effort of haggling and the eventual cost.

The foliage tumbled to her feet and Ruby sheathed the blade. It might have been made of a tempered alloy, but no edge could survive this amount of punishment for long; she'd have to sharpen it again at midday.

Another load of water was dumped on top of her. She fought the urge to swear. It was a very regular occurrence; almost every horizontal leaf collected a pool of moisture just waiting for an unwitting traveller below. Ruby wasn't even mad about getting wet. Her tank top was already thoroughly drenched and sticking to her skin, her bangs clung to her forehead, and her ponytail hung limp. No, she just hated the droplet that ran the length of her spine causing her to shiver.

The muscles in her arms ached. She'd woken early, much earlier than usual due to her excitement. It wasn't necessary to set an alarm in the rainforest. It never really went quiet with the life clambering all around even at night, but when the sun rose it was particularly raucous. Today she'd beaten most of the animals, birds, and insects out of bed.

Consequently she was ahead of schedule and hopefully didn't have much further to go. Noticing a clearing she pushed her way towards it; even if it was only a few dozen feet long it would be vastly quicker than continuing along her current path.

Not that a clearing meant that she was able to see much of the sun. This deep into the rainforest the trees were ancient. They towered over her and their canopies stretched out forming an almost unbroken blanket.

A weight hit her from behind and slammed her into the floor. The impact left her disoriented, but her body reacted instinctively. Her Aura flared in response to the claws raking the back of her legs.

Panic gripped her. No one could have responded with anything else to an ambush like this. All she knew was that something was trying to kill her. Whatever it was, it was heavy. Its weight pressed her into the dirt and crushed her chest until her breath left her.

Ruby whipped her arm back. It connected with something hard, but she was unable to get any real force in the blow. The thing growled in response. Her legs failed to gain purchase in the loose undergrowth as she tried to scramble away.

She threw her arm back again. It wasn't much, but in this position it was the only attack she could muster. Material ripped as the thing tore its way into her rucksack. Ruby yanked the quick release on its straps. Its bulk gave her a small pocket of space. With it her thrown arm connected solidly. The thing gave a grunt, and she used the brief moment when it recoiled to shrug out of her rucksack and struggle away.

She bounded to her feet and spun to meet her attacker's glowing eyes. With a shake of its head it scattered her possessions from the ruined rucksack in its jaws. Ruby swore. She recognised the Grimm instantly. A Cheshire. The one Grimm she absolutely hadn't wanted to meet.

It dropped her bag and let out a deep, coughing bellow. The rainforest abruptly went silent. Absolutely silent. Not even the smallest birds dared to make a noise. Cheshires were undoubtedly the alpha predators of the region and everything around knew it.

They were just like any other species of large cat… that is, if a member of that species was the length of a car, had claws like knives, and plates covering its body. Cheshires could pull down gorillas with ease.

Ruby knew she'd been incredibly lucky. There had been absolutely no errant noise, no sign it had been stalking her. If not for her rucksack, its jaws would likely have found the back of her neck. Her Aura wouldn't have been able to do much about that. The bag had undoubtedly saved her life, now she just had to make the most of the chance.

In the past two years she'd learnt something important that she'd been ignorant about before; when to pick her battles. At school she'd been intent on eradicating every Grimm she saw. It had been idealistic and foolish. It was true that every Grimm she slew was one more that would not descend on a helpless family. But that was when she'd always had a nice warm bed to go back to, and support on standby. They were luxuries that didn't exist anymore. If she fought every Grimm she encountered, one would eventually get the better of her. A single wound could have been enough to end her life. Unless people were in danger, it wasn't worth the risk.

She'd run from the Grimm plenty of times. Once that admission would have caused her to burn with embarrassment, now she knew it was just sensible. It wasn't worth fighting a Cheshire hundreds of miles from the nearest village just for pride. But now she didn't have a choice. If she used her Semblance to dash into the thick undergrowth she might as well save herself the trouble and just break her own leg now. This was the Cheshire's domain; if she ran it would catch her.

At least in the clearing she had a little bit of room to manoeuvre. Her hand inched towards Crescent Rose. The Cheshire crouched down, the powerful muscles in its hind-legs tightening. They moved in the same instant. The Cheshire pounced, its leap carrying it across the dozen feet between them in a fraction of a second.

Ruby was faster.

She disappeared in a cloud of petals. Ripping Crescent Rose from her back she slammed its bottom spike into the Cheshire's side before it had even fully deployed. The Cheshire's feet threw mulch into the air as it spun towards her, its claws whistling through the air. Even in the grips of her Semblance Ruby barely managed to duck out of the way. It was startling. No Grimm she knew of was this quick.

Or smart. The Cheshire turned its body to catch Crescent Rose's blade on an armoured plate rather than vulnerable flesh. The impact reverberated up her arm, but she didn't have long to complain. It was all she could do to dive out of the way of the Cheshire's next attack.

It came after her. A flurry of snarls, slashing claws, and flashing teeth came after her. Every attack that breached her defences pushed her Aura to a precipice. Ruby caught a paw inches from her face on Crescent Rose's haft, and she pulled the trigger.

Her ammunition was limited, not to mention expensive, but all the ammo in the world wouldn't do her much good if she were dead. The bullet crashed into the Cheshire's unprotected shoulder. The pair of them separated.

Ruby refused to listen to her own body's protests, that time would come after the fight, instead she studied her adversary. The injury she'd given it was not as severe as she'd hoped. It merely glanced at it before turning back to her. It did seem to favour its other leg though.

The Cheshire was tough. This was not a fight that would be over quickly and that would only favour the Grimm. Only one option remained open to her. The wind rose.

Gusts ripped leaves from the trees. Petals swirled in the currents of air. And in the centre of it all Ruby transcended. She rediscovered the feeling she had found on the last day in Vale. Against the Knights she'd pushed her Aura further than she ever had before. On that day she'd become the wind, and so was she again.

The Cheshire started forward. She knew the instant it moved, not because she saw it, but because she felt it. She felt it in the air it pushed out of its way, felt the vibrations of its muscles. In the grips of her Semblance, her awareness was increased a hundredfold.

It was easy to predict its attack, to move just far enough out of the way, to return the favour with interest. Blood flew. The Cheshire slashed at her. For all the good it did it may as well have attacked the wind that whistled around it.

Ruby stopped thinking. Stopped worrying. She forgot her troubles and acted on instinct. Duck, cut, pivot, slash, fire, leap. She'd trained her entire life for this moment, it became so easy. It wasn't entirely one sided, the Cheshire still hit her, but it did so only because she allowed it, because she thought the trade-off worth it. The ground under her feet became slick. Blood leaked from a dozen wounds on the cat's body. Its movements slowed.

She knew what it was going to do almost before it did. It would throw everything into one last attack. It wouldn't be enough. She rolled out of the way of its last desperate leap, and with an overhead swing she hammered Crescent Rose's point through its spine. The Cheshire ripped her weapon from her grasp as it gave out a pitiful whine.

Leaving Crescent Rose where it was, she tore her machete from its sheath. Her first blow bounced from the Cheshire's thick skull and took off an ear, her second landed more squarely, and on the third bone split. She left the blade buried in the Cheshire's twitching body and stumbled away.

Releasing her grip on her Semblance she almost passed out. Ignored fatigue bullied its way into every muscle. Her lungs cried in want of air. There was a price to pay for every action, and this one often proved too high.

Back in Vale she'd pushed herself to her limits and found that she could exist beyond them. The time spent in Atlas meant she hadn't explored what she'd discovered, but in the last past two years she'd had nothing but time.

With extensive practice she had a greater sense of control over her Semblance than ever, and a greater understanding of it. Before, she'd always used it purely instinctively; she wanted to move faster so that was what she did. It had never crossed her mind to question just how it worked.

Her Semblance wasn't limited to speed. In Vale, she had called the wind and the wind had answered. It made sense really. She could move with incredible speed, but it never took that much more effort. It shouldn't have been that easy. She might not have paid as much attention in math class as she should have, but even she knew that the resistance from the air scaled exponentially with velocity. As fast as she could move it should have proved a major problem.

It never was though. It was almost as if the air in front of her moved out of her way, and in reality that was more or less what happened. Before her control of the air around her had been instinctive, now she had much more finesse.

With her Semblance flaring she could feel the air all around. It was almost as if it were a sixth sense, or maybe an extension of the others. The minutest vibrations were carried to her ears; she could tell when a bird took off just by how its wings displaced the air, and she could predict the future. That might have been an exaggeration, but it was what it sometimes felt like. When her adversary's movements were transmitted to her the instant they happened it was easy to predict what they were going to do.

Coupled with her heightened speed it made her almost untouchable. The only downside was it left her like this. Back in that town in Vale she'd hidden her weakness. She'd given them what they'd expected after her display. An invincible huntress. Someone to tell stories about. They hadn't seen just how much her legs had been shaking under her cloak, or how she'd collapsed onto the bed the moment she'd locked the door.

If only she could do the same now. This fight hadn't been as extended as that one, but her expedition had already taken a much greater toll on her body. At the moment all she wished to do was lie down and sleep. It was a fanciful dream that she'd never allow herself to make a reality.

Sleep might have been beyond her, but she took ten minutes to rest. To look at the consequences of her fight. A Cheshire. Few hunters could ever claim such a trophy; even Port hadn't had the skull of one in his office. Perhaps she should send him a present, wherever he was now; she was pretty sure he'd retired from teaching. He was probably sat around a fire in a hunting lodge somewhere.

With her strength returning she checked her belongings. Her rucksack had ripped along the seam, but it only took her a few more minutes to roughly sew it back together. Though the Cheshire had scattered her belongings, her most precious were safe in their pouch. She resisted the urge to open it to check; she knew them all by touch.

Her last canteen of water was used to clean the blood and dirt from her skin. It was only then that she found she hadn't escaped unscathed. It could have been worse, especially considering how the fight had started, but the claw mark across her midriff became fire the moment her eyes landed on it.

Ruby had to bite back a scream. It was the strangest occurrence with wounds. Sometimes they were fine right up until the moment she became of aware of them; then it was all she could do to think of anything else. She sloshed more water on it, grinding her teeth together, before pulling out her medical kit. It was a big one, but some of her supplies were starting to run low. She hadn't banked on getting hurt quite this often.

Tending her own wounds was something she'd sadly become used to doing. It didn't compare to having someone else do it. Not in the quality of the treatment or the care that came after it. Weiss had always fussed over her immensely whenever she'd been injured, she'd even… Ruby pushed the thoughts away. At least her midriff didn't bother her anymore; the bittersweet memories were far more painful than any physical wound.

After securing yet another bandage the only thing that was left to do was gather up her weapons. The clean-up was always her least favourite part of any fight. She'd never been fond of gore, but after Vale the sight of copious amounts of blood always caused bile to rise in her throat, even if it was Grimm's.

Crescent Rose had come through the fight entirely unscathed, but surprisingly so had her machete. The difficulty she had in extracting it from the Cheshire's skull told her just how much force she'd put into her blow. Despite having not been designed with such a use in mind it still seemed functional. Perhaps she'd got a better deal than she'd thought.

Finally she was able to shoulder her rucksack. It was lucky she was ahead of schedule; she could do with a couple of hours to recuperate. Her legs didn't seem particularly fond of the idea of walking at that precise moment, but only an idiot would lower their guard next to a fresh corpse. With a final look at the Cheshire, Ruby left the clearing.

* * *

 

Ruby double-checked her compass. It was difficult to gauge distances when most of the time she could barely see more than a score of feet through the undergrowth, but she could keep track of her direction. As long as she stayed on course she should hit her target. Naturally she didn't want to think of the possibility of a small error causing her to miss by a hundred miles or more.

Not that she'd keep walking forever. It was important to keep to a schedule. If she didn't find Calakmul in a week she'd turn back. No matter what. If fortune favoured her, however, it should be close by. At the next stream Ruby almost squealed with excitement.

It wasn't much, a single slab of rock half-buried in the mud at the bank, but as she ran her fingers over it she came to a conclusion. It was definitely man-made. It was too smooth, too regular to be anything else. Her heart hammered in her chest.

As she crested the next small rise her hands actually shook with excitement. Her gamble had paid off. In front of her, almost obscured by vegetation, a small building rose from the undergrowth. The yellow bricks had been weathered by age and part of the roof had collapsed, but the sight of it took her breath away. It was simply magnificent.

The door had rotted, and Ruby peered inside. There wasn't much to see. The humid atmosphere had been just as unforgiving to most of the furniture. The strands of what looked like hemp in the corner might once have been a blanket, the lump of misshapen wood a table. The Calakmulese had invented ceramics though. Three plates in the corner were almost untouched.

Ruby couldn't help but imagine, just who had eaten their meals from them? What had their daily lives been like? Had they had to worry about the Grimm? How had they fought them without Dust? That was at least a question she hoped to be able to answer.

She wasn't the first to enter the building in millennia though. Animals had evidently used it for shelter judging by the excrement. The musk failed to discourage her though. Being inside a house which had existed before Vale was even a notion in someone's head was just too remarkable.

A camera clicked. All through her travels she made sure to take a lot of pictures. In the future she'd like to be able to publish a book, share her experiences with everyone else. That was still a distant future though ̶ ̶ one that at this moment was nothing more than a wish ̶ ̶ she'd come here for a reason and it didn't involve a journal.

Ruby left the building and continued on. The ground rose in front of her; in some places it was so steep she had to use the undergrowth to clamber up the incline. The hard-going failed to put a damper on her spirits. The signs of inhabitation weren't constant, but they were all around her.

When she reached the summit her jaw fell open. No matter what she did or didn't discover, the trials of her expedition were worth it for the view alone. The trees thinned and in the valley below and Calakmul stood in all its glory.

And the lost city was spectacular. It had been settled over a thousand years ago, lost to the sands of time, bested by nature, and yet it still stood. The surrounding walls had largely fallen to the forest, swallowed by the vines and trees, but the streets were still clearly visible. The distribution of the buildings ̶ ̶ some collapsed, most relatively intact ̶ ̶ gave her hints to how the residents had lived. A large paved area could very well have been a market, another section a meeting place. Her mind filled with the possibilities.

The one definite trend was that the buildings started off small at the outskirts and got larger as they neared the centre, but none could match what dominated the vista. A temple rose into the sky. Consisting of a series of square terraces, steps had been built up each of the four sides. A metal plate stood erect at the top. The bronze or copper might have been burnished by the ages, but it still shone. A homage to a god.

Staring at the huge blocks used in its construction she found it staggering that such a city could be built without the aid of modern technology. After documenting the view, Ruby started down. Her tiredness, her hunger, her thirst, had all been forgotten, replaced by absolute wonder. The walls weren't a barrier anymore and it was easy to slip through the gaps.

In all honesty she could have spent weeks exploring just the outer fringes, but she didn't have that luxury. There was only enough food in pack for a few days and that would be stretching things on the way back. With that in mind she'd ignored the smaller single-story buildings and headed towards the larger ones.

It was entirely surreal to be walking down a street first laid so long ago. She'd found ruins before, but never something of this magnitude, never something so well preserved. Most civilizations throughout history had fallen to either the Grimm or war, neither of which were kind to architecture. But Calakmul apparently hadn't. No one knew quite why their empire had failed. She had a chance to find out.

Ruby poked her head in the first of the larger buildings she came to. As before, the wood of the door had fallen victim to the humidity. It was hard to guess just what it had been; like the other building there was only a single room on the this floor. Against the back wall there were stone steps.

Halfway up them Ruby paused. It was a house, and some of its residents were still here. Skeletons didn't invoke the same horror that corpses did. There was a sense of detachment. A skeleton was long past help, a corpse was perhaps something she could have prevented.

They were still people though, and Ruby took a moment to pay her respects. The skeletons appeared to belong to a man and a woman, probably a couple judging by how her skull rested on his ribcage. They'd been together at the end, however it had happened. There wasn't much more anyone could wish for.

They seemed to have died in peace. Old age maybe? But then surely they would have been buried, or cremated, or whatever the Calakmul had done to honour their dead. It might have been a pandemic. The healthy had fled while those already ill were unable. It was a possibility. Ruby wasn't worried about any diseases; nothing would have survived this long.

Most of the buildings were entirely deserted, their insides bare. It supported her hypothesis of an evacuation. So did the other skeletons. She made sure not to disturb them, only taking pictures.

A couple of hours had passed by the time she found herself at the base of the temple. It must have been fifty feet high or more. The great blocks of rock were almost as tall as she was. The sheer effort it must have taken to construct them made her feel small.

The steps were worn with both age and use. It had undoubtedly been the focal point for whatever religion the Calakmul had practiced. Ruby tried to imagine the ceremonies. There would have been elaborate costumes, the beat of drums, the light of fires, and smell of food. She just hoped they hadn't practiced ritual sacrifice like some had.

In the small shelter atop the temple there was a heavy stone table. One that could have been used for an offering of food… or more. From the vantage point the city stretched out below her and beyond. There was rainforest for as far as her eye could see and a damn sight further. It occurred to her then, that at that precise moment, she might very well be the most isolated person on the planet.

The walls were lined with inscriptions. Though she'd done as much research as she'd been able to, there just wasn't enough information about the Calakmulese for her to be able to recognise more than a fraction of the symbols. The most complete recollection of the Calakmulese was the tale that had persuaded her to make the journey.

It was when she was on her knees, painstakingly taking photos of every inch of the wall, that her boot caught in the groove in the floor. Dust and dirt had obscured it, but a little cleaning revealed what could only be a panel to something below. Ruby tapped her foot. The hollow thump told her all she needed to know.

Thirty minutes later she lowered herself in the space below. The first thing she noticed was the humidity, or rather the lack of it. The air was bone dry. Her expectation built. Whatever the Calakmulese had thought to place within their temple would be perfectly preserved.

She flashed her headlamp around the walls. There wasn't much to see; it was just an entrance chamber with steps descending into the darkness. It was difficult to manoeuvre both Crescent Rose and her rucksack down the narrow staircase, but she just about managed it without scraping the walls. With stone pressing in on her from every direction she was incredibly glad claustrophobia had never been one of her afflictions. Still she had to debate the sense in descending into what could very well be a tomb.

There was absolutely no light. Unlike the films there wasn't an impossible array of mirrors or torches that had been burning for centuries. Despite it being the one of the most expensive models her headlamp only provided the slightest respite against the darkness.

The still air, the lack of light, the entire absence of scent was just plain eerie. It was impossible to tell how far she descended, but she wouldn't have been surprised to find she was at ground level or even below it before the stairs ended.

Her guess had been right. It was a tomb. And it also solved the mystery of what the Calakmul had done with their dead. Rows and rows of skulls stared at her, their bones stacked neatly below them. The eyeless sockets almost convinced her to turn back ̶ ̶ if there was a place for a horror film to be set, this was it. She didn't though, she hadn't come this far to be scared away by ghosts.

But neither did she want to wander the catacombs forever. Her solution to that problem was simple, a reel of fishing line and a small spike ̶ ̶ when the time came she could just follow it back to the stairs. Though corridors branched off every few feet she continued to follow what seemed to be the main one.

A door blocked her path. Figures were carved on it; small and insubstantial, they all seemed to be prostrating themselves before a bright light. Ruby pulled the ornate lever on the wall. Unsurprisingly it barely budged. It took almost all of her weight to make it move.

The door didn't open. "Figures," she muttered to herself. She didn't know quite why she'd expected a thousand year old mechanism still to work. Unlike in movies there was such a thing as rust, not to mention lubrication drying out. She set her shoulder to the stone and heaved.

It was hard to gain purchase on the dusty floor, her feet skidded out beneath her, but millimetre by millimetre she made progress. Air hissed as the door cracked open. Ruby slipped through the gap. She'd left the bones behind, whatever this new corridor was, it wasn't a tomb. She continued exploring.

A slab shifted beneath her boot and something skittered from her Aura. Instinctively she ducked away, her heart hammering, her hands held in front of her. Nothing moved. Nothing stirred. She forced herself to take a breath, and then another. The edges of complete panic faded. Normally her reaction would have been more thought out, but normally she hadn't just walked past hundreds or thousands of skeletons.

Rising back to her feet she looked around. A bolt from a crossbow lay on the floor. It was simply made, a sharpened stick of wood with feathered flights. It appeared deadly though, judging by the darkened stain on its tip. Ruby checked herself. Her Aura had served her well yet again.

Replaying the moments before it fired she crouched. She honestly couldn't believe it. Being in a tomb was surreal enough, but a tomb with a trap that still functioned after a thousand years. It was absolutely impossible. Unless… it had felt as if the lever had been doing something. Had she just been stupid enough to prime traps intended to repel intruders?

It was just another added element of danger to something which was already dangerous enough. She rolled the bolt between her fingers. The poison was likely impotent, and it would take an awful lot more than that to penetrate her Aura. The traps had been designed for the time they'd been built in. It was widely believed that the average Aura back then was vastly weaker than today, the majority hadn't even had Semblances. With those advantages she should be ok; as long as she was careful.

Ruby took her own advice to mind, she didn't place her feet down without checking where they were landing; avoiding the now so obvious raised triggers. They were so obvious she got cocky. She didn't step on a raised slab, but hadn't bargained on the entire floor dropping away from her.

Her stomach lurched. As she fell she managed to hook one hand on the edge of the pit. It was a tentative grip; her entire weight supported by three fingers. Her tendons creaked. Two years ago she probably would have fallen, but two years was a long time. She'd gained height and she'd gained muscle.

Her grunts broke the sanctity of the catacombs as she twisted and pulled until she could bring her other arm into play. The one thing she avoided doing was looking down. She had a head for heights, but no one would have wanted to see what the results of failure would be.

She counted her blessings that the Calakmulese had deigned to carve elaborate patterns into the floor. The grooves were just large enough for her fingertips. An inch at a time Ruby heaved herself up. It was all the strength of her arms; her boots simply had nowhere to gain purchase. She managed to get her knee over the edge and rolled to safety.

The captured tension escaped from her body. Her heart pounded in her ears. She'd been more terrified in those few moments than in the middle of a fight. It would only have taken slightly slower reactions, a single slip for it all to be over.

Some might say she'd been lucky, and she felt it, but she also made her own luck. No one else had saved her. The fingertips on her left hand had paid the price though. The rough stone had left them torn and bleeding. They were numb at the moment, but she knew that the superficial wounds would burn the moment the feeling came back to her hand.

It was an easy enough fix though. She gritted her teeth against the pain and cleaned the wounds thoroughly before directing her Aura into the area. The skin knitted before her very eyes. The tips were left pink and raw, but whole.

Ruby stood and walked to the precipice. The entire floor had been built on a hinge mechanism and hung to the side. She didn't quite know whether she should be relived or not to find the drop probably wouldn't have killed her. Crippled probably, but not killed straight off. She would just have died of thirst in a long-lost tomb without a chance of rescue. In her mind instant death was preferable.

The gap to the other side wasn't insurmountable. Not to her at any rate. Noting where the edge was she crossed the pit with a Semblance-enhanced leap. The discovery of a new type of trap just gave her more to worry about, but fortunately she didn't encounter another. The floor sloped upwards gradually, and after a few minutes she came to a room.

Her mouth fell open. The room glittered. The myths had not been a lie; Calakmul was the city of gold. Or at least the legends had their basis in truth. The walls might not have been made of solid metal, but there was still more than she'd ever seen before set into nooks in the walls. There was so much she wouldn't have even been able to carry it all if she wanted to.

Not that she was doing this just to raid tombs or anything. Her expeditions had always been based on nobler goals. Still, food, equipment, and ammunition weren't cheap. It would have been impossible to discover the knowledge she wanted without appropriating some of the wealth that was sitting lost to the world.

Ruby knew it was theft. She didn't try to hide from that fact. At one time she would have decried herself even thinking of the act, but since then she'd experienced the harsh realities of the world. Money didn't grow on trees, and without it she would starve.

She didn't get greedy, she knew the treasure would be a dead weight in her pack, but she took enough. It was in the act that she noticed what had been inscribed on the walls. All down the corridors there had been the same indecipherable symbols, here, there were pictures.

Almost perfectly preserved in the near airtight tomb, they told a story. It was one she'd been searching for. It didn't involve a man, but it did involve a goddess. One whose powers the artisans had simply been unable to capture in the medium of stone. Whatever they were they'd awed the Calakmul enough to for them to build this room, and maybe the entire temple, in her honour.

She hadn't just appeared once either, not if the slightly different shades of inscribed panels or styles of art were anything to go by. She'd visited this city on multiple occasions, maybe even across different generations, and each time they'd worshipped their goddess and saviour. Calakmul hadn't survived from the Grimm just based on its remote location after all.

It wasn't exact proof, but it was evidence and Ruby made sure to document it all. No one would believe her theory that the goddess depicted here was still alive today, but it was yet another coincidence that all these remote civilizations shared similar deities. Someday other people would have to see it too.

It was while taking hundreds of photos that she noticed the small notch in the wall. After all the traps she was a little bit apprehensive about putting her finger into it, but there wasn't a way to avoid it. Flaring her Aura she pressed the button at its back.

There was a click and a panel swung open. The object within made her gasp. The goddess stood on a plinth. Cast in gold, the figurine was eight inches high and it wasn't hard to see why they had worshipped her. If there was any resemblance, their goddess had been stunningly beautiful. Amber gemstones shone from her eye sockets.

Without thinking Ruby reached towards it before she caught herself. She lowered her hand. She'd watched far too many movies to be that stupid. Maybe it would trip more crossbows, or the floor would fall away, or maybe even a giant boulder would drop from above. It could have been any of those or something else. The only thing Ruby was sure of was that the figurine was too good to be true.

Still though… the way it glittered was just too inviting. It was another small piece of evidence that could add up to more. Making a decision she sized up the statuette, judging its weight. She'd seen this done numerous times; she just hadn't imagined the technique would ever come in handy.

Taking a small cloth she deposited a number of heavy gold coins into its centre and bounced the package in her hand. It was about right. She barely dared to breathe as she poised her hands next to the plinth: one holding her counterfeit, the other almost brushing the figurine.

Preparing herself to flee she flared her Semblance and made the switch. Her hand ripped the statuette from its resting place and an instant later the cloth-covered coins replaced it. Ruby froze, listening for the slightest hint of danger. There was no sound apart from her heartbeat in her ears. The plinth hadn't sunk down. Her theft hadn't triggered a trap. She ceded to the pressure in her lungs. In the silence of the tomb her nerves escaped in a high-pitched laugh. She really was the greatest grave robber in history.

With the figurine safely stowed she left the treasure room and walked back along the corridor, being careful to avoid any further mistakes. She'd stay here for as long as possible, documenting everything, but eventually she'd have to move on. In the dry air of the tomb she risked extracting Blake's book.

The likely legends were scattered randomly and she leafed through them, searching for where she could go next. One in particular caught her attention. One she'd been putting off ever since deciding on doing this. There were a lot of reasons, but the reward might just be worth the risk.

If she sold some of what she found here she should be able to afford a fake identity, a good one, and travel costs wouldn't be much more. There was nothing stopping her. No reason why she should avoid it. Not after this. It could very well prove to be the location of the most definite piece of evidence too. Ruby tapped the name in her book.

_Merlin._

**A/N: Ruby Rose: Tomb Raider. This was a very silly chapter, but we need that now and again. You'd have thought someone else would have put together all the clues like Ruby has, but I guess not.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

Weiss' heels echoed in the damp corridor. It was not a place many would expect a Schnee to be, but the masses just didn't realise that her life was not all balls and glitz. So often it was she who had to get her hands dirty to allow them to maintain their ignorant bliss. The world was a cruel place and without her, it would only be too eager to swallow Atlas whole.

She was its protector, no matter what the dissidents spouted. Thankfully, they were rightfully derided by those who could actually think. They only had to look a short distance into the past to see what could have happened without her.

Though normally she got her hands dirty in the name of national security, today was personal. Two of her soldiers snapped to attention when they saw her. The prisoner probably didn't need both guards, but after so long searching she wasn't taking any chances.

Weiss paused with her hand on the door. For a moment she considered forcing her to wait another few days. To let her imagination run wild with all the possibilities of what could occur to someone in her circumstances. It was tempting, but the last three days had passed at a crawl. Weiss wanted answers and she would get them. One way or another.

Metal clanked as she slid back the heavy bolt; she knew it would have echoed around the cell horrifically. Everything about a place like this was designed to make the prisoners uncomfortable. Weiss opened the door and walked inside.

A smile formed on her lips. Chained to the wall, her hair and clothes unkempt, Celeste Sampson did not look like one of the leading psychiatrists in the world. Instead she appeared to be just what she was, a prisoner and a traitor.

It wasn't the first time Weiss had seen her; she'd been waiting at the airfield. After so long searching she'd wanted to see the proof with her own eyes. They hadn't removed the bag covering Celeste's head, but Weiss had recognised her instantly. It was the knowledge that Celeste was finally in her grasp that had allowed her to put this moment off for a few additional days. She'd been busy anyway.

The raid had not gone off flawlessly. The extraction team had bundled Celeste into a van and neutralised her bodyguard easily enough, but somehow the local law enforcement had become involved. The resulting chase had drawn an audience of thousands on television and had only ended when her troops had opened fire on the pursuing vehicles. They knew better than to disappoint her. No officers had been killed, but the Vacuan public had been rife with speculation regarding just who the criminals were.

No one had linked them to Atlas yet, at least not publicly. An accusation like that would have been unwise. Of course, some within the royal court knew just who Sampson had been before her appointment as an advisor; they knew just who would have the motive to abduct her.

The Atlesian Ambassador had been summoned to the Vacuan Council, and subsequently the Court, and had naturally denied everything; honestly she had no knowledge to betray. Even so, Weiss knew fingers were being pointed her way; there was even some talk of Vacuo withdrawing from the trade treaty. Weiss wasn't worried. It would take some time to smooth over, but she would. Even if she couldn't and the talks collapsed, it was worth it.

Without the risk she wouldn't be standing here looking down as Celeste squinted against the light streaming into the cell. Weiss turned the lone hanging bulb on. For the most part the room had been kept dark and cold. The switch was just beyond the limits of Celeste's movements.

Her chains rattled as she brought a hand up to cover her eyes. Her days of confinement in this room had left her skin darkened by filth. Though some might have said her treatment here had been inhumane, Weiss knew it was not. Celeste had not been abused by her men. She had a blanket, a pillow, hot meals, and she'd even been allowed to use an actual bathroom several times a day. Compared to her crimes, the punishment was lenient.

Weiss waited impassively as the door swung shut behind her. She dimly noted she had been right, it did echo off the concrete walls. The pair of them were left alone. Celeste peered at her between her fingers, blinking rapidly as the silhouette resolved itself.

"Weiss," her voice cracked with thirst. She didn't sound surprised. She must have known that she was unable to postpone this day forever.

"You shall not call me that. Not after what you did. You will address me as Councillor." When she'd been a child all she'd wanted was for people to call her Weiss, for her to be a person rather than the heir to her house. Now she knew better. Titles were important. They established a hierarchy from the start of the conversation. Celeste was in no way her equal.

"Councillor, this is illegal." Celeste climbed to her feet, straightening her spine, trying to appear authoritative.

Internally Weiss sighed. It was to going to be like this then. She had hoped that the days Celeste had been left to her own thoughts would have softened her will to resist.

"I have been abducted off the streets. Illegally extradited. Held in this room for days without access to legal representation. And I haven't even been charged with anything. It breaks every law. Both Vacuan and Atlesian."

Throwing the law in her face. Celeste didn't seem to understand. The law applied to those who were forced to adhere to it, not those who dictated it. No one knew where Celeste was, and in a few weeks or months, no one would care. She would not be getting a lawyer or a public trial. Her future would be decided here.

Weiss waited until she was sure Celeste had finished. "Are you done?"

"No. Not unless you immediately release me. I'll ̶ ̶ "

Weiss raised two fingers on her left hand, that was it, but the gesture caught Celeste's attention; her face paled. She stared at the hand, her mind no doubt replaying all the tales that were attributed to her captor.

"I think that you are. Do you agree?" Weiss said her voice frigid. Celeste gulped and nodded. "Good. I did not come here to debate the legality of your situation. I came here to ask you a question, and it is one you undoubtedly already know that I am going to ask. Why? What did they promise you?"

"You've got it wrong. I didn't." Her eyes were wide, pleading to be believed.

Weiss took a step forward, fury filling her face. "Don't you dare lie to me. I know it was you."

"I'm not. It wasn't me." Celeste shrunk away from her, pressing her back against the cold stone of the wall.

"Only two people in the world knew about Amber. I never spoke of it. Ruby insisted she hadn't either. It took me a while to figure out how they knew, and then it dawned on me. Ruby told you in her counselling sessions. She opened up to you, and all you wanted was information you could sell." Weiss' brow darkened every time she mentioned Ruby's name. Celeste hadn't only betrayed her; she'd betrayed Ruby's confidence, her trust. But even that paled beside her greatest crime. "You turned the memory of the sweetest six-year-old girl into a weapon." She was but inches from Celeste, and every facet of her body was urging her to strike out.

"Please…" A tear rolled down her cheek through the dirt. "I never repeated anything she told me. You've got the wrong person. I only ever wanted to help Ruby."

Weiss spoke her next words slowly and deliberately calmly. "Do not say her name."

"Why not? Because it hurts? Because you still love her and can't work out why? We've only met a handful of times, but I feel like I know you. I spent hours listening to her. No matter what we were talking about, it always came back to you. She loved you Weiss. More than anything else. Where is the girl Ruby fell in love with? Would she be standing in your shoes?"

Weiss knew she had somehow lost control of the conversation. Despite being in chains, Celeste had twisted her words around and made this about her. Her and Ruby.

"Do not attempt to psychoanalyse me."

"Why isn't she with you now? Somewhere you know exactly why she left."

Weiss' stomach squirmed. Ruby hadn't even had the decency to tell her, to let her talk her out of it. She hadn't even left a note explaining herself. But Weiss did know. And it made her furious.

"It's not too late. It's never too late for love." Celeste must have known she was playing a dangerous game. "Just start doing the right thing. Show her you haven't changed from the girl she first met."

"And I suppose that involves releasing you." That was awfully convenient.

"Releasing someone who's innocent of her supposed crimes? Yes. What would Ruby do in your situation?"

"Ruby wouldn't be in my situation. If she was we'd all be dead. She doesn't have the stomach for it."

"Does that make her a bad person?"

"Of course it do ̶ ̶ " Weiss cut off, furious at herself. "We're not here to discuss her."

"You need to. You can't keep bottling everything up. I can see how much strain you're under."

"Don't mention her." The threat in her tone was clear.

"Or what? What more can you do with me? You've already had me abducted, held me here for days."

"You imagination is greatly lacking if you believe this is the worst situation that you can be in."

Celeste took some time to answer. When she spoke, her words were eloquent. "I know it could be worse. I know you could have me tortured to death if you wanted to and no one would argue against it. The Ice Queen's power is close to absolute. But Ruby didn't fall in love with the Ice Queen. No matter what you do to me, you'll always hurt more. I can help you Weiss, just like I helped Ruby. You just need to open up to me."

Every mention of the name sent daggers into her heart; Weiss was sure that was why Celeste kept mentioning her. It was a weapon deftly wielded. So deftly that Weiss didn't immediately discount her offer.

Every one of her mornings was painful. She woke with an aching heart and a cold bed. Even when she'd filled it, not one of her lovers managed to expunge the longing within her for more than a few heady moments. It filled her waking moments and her sleepless nights.

She was lonely. The  _Ice Queen_  had no need or want for friends. But  _Weiss_  barely had any. Most had abandoned her. She couldn't make them either. Power was the great divider. Only Winter was her equal. For everyone else she always had to question if their interactions were tempered by fear or want.

She was not happy, no matter what façade she presented to the world. Her life had lost the sense of fulfilment that came from the simplest things. A coffee in a crowded shop, receiving a piece of homework with a red one hundred at the top, waking up to breakfast in bed. The things that so many had. The things that transcended money and power. The things that most wouldn't realise how special they were until they lost them.

But they were also the things that were denied to her. In this she was a sacrifice to the people that she served. That was what it was. Many looked at her seat in the Council chambers, her  _throne_ , and thought she their ruler.

It may have been true, but power was a paradox. The greater it was, the more chains that accompanied it. They wrapped around her and weighed her down. A million issues pressed her at every moment. Few risked speaking their mind to her. She'd had to put aside her fanciful dreams in pursuit of serving those under her. She might have been the closest thing Atlas had to a queen, but she was also the servant of all. Those she ruled all had more liberty than she.

She'd never spoken of her feelings. Not even to Winter. Weiss knew it would help though. Opening up to Ruby had once helped her, would opening up to Celeste do the same? She was good. The change she'd caused in Ruby had been apparent for all to see. It would be beneficial to speak to someone.

But at the same time it was something that could never be. She could not be seen visiting a psychiatrist. Not be seen admitting that she had problems. That she was weak. A single picture that slipped into a magazine would have been a sword wielded by those who subtly fought against her still. Those who wished to destabilise the foundations of everything she'd built.

Weiss simply couldn't allow that to occur. She didn't need help. She didn't need a shrink. Especially the one before her.

"You wish for me to open up to you when you have already betrayed a secret that was confided to you." Her voice was the one of the Ice Queen.

"Weiss, I promise you I didn't. I'll swear it to you on anything. I would never have broken Ruby's confidence."

"The innocent don't run."

"I didn't have a choice. I had no evidence to support my cause; there couldn't have been. All I had was my word. The word I'm giving you now."

"If not you then who?"

"I don't know. If you and Ruby spoke to no one else then it could have been someone who worked for me. I wrote everything down. They could have seen the files. Anyone could have broken in."

"It might very well have been someone who worked for you," Weiss agreed. "However they all swear their innocence, even now. And it is plain you did not extend your advice to flee to them; they did not run."

Celeste wilted at the knowledge that one of her last avenues for acquittal had been thoroughly explored. "Please… I promise you it wasn't me. I'll do anything to prove it. I can help you Weiss. If you just let me."

"You can help me from a cell. Eventually one of you will confess. It doesn't matter how long it will take for you to break. Everyone breaks."

Weiss turned away from Celeste who had silent tears streaming down her face. One day the truth would be revealed. Her name stopped her.

"Weiss, can I say one more thing before you leave? Ruby was always worried about you. She always wanted to know how to help you. She always told me how frustrated she was, and no matter what you've told yourself, know that she never held it against you. No one would. It wasn't your fault. What you did was a mercy. There's no need to keep tormenting yourself. Forgive yourself. Just like Amber and Lyra would if they could speak to you."

Weiss' fingers twitched. She was torn between turning around and striking Celeste and curling into a shaking ball on the floor. Celeste didn't have the right to mention them. And yet the words were not some desperate attempt to save herself, they were said with unfeigned empathy. They arrowed into her. They were the words she'd longed to hear, the ones she'd told herself but could never bring herself to believe them. She couldn't now. She'd murdered Amber. Nothing would ever change that. No mere words could undo her crime.

She rapped her knuckles on the door and it swung open. When she spoke to the soldiers outside her tone failed to convey the emotional maelstrom within her; it was entirely flat and devoid of anything. "Put her with the others."

Her heels clicked in the damp corridor; a steady, efficient rhythm. Her waiting troops snapped to attention as they saw her. It was only after she'd left the building did she realise she'd left the light in the cell on.

* * *

 

Weiss wiggled her feet trying to get the blood circulating around them again. She resisted the urge to grimace or massage them as pins flared within. There wasn't really the room for that much movement anyway. She'd been perched on the edge of her seat in the cramped van for the better part of ninety minutes.

It had not been a particularly pleasant hour and a half. Her seat was hard and unforgiving, the air was like a sauna's, and worst of all she was bored. Absolutely nothing had happened. All the rows of monitors in front of her showed various images of normal streets. Her earpiece was silent apart from the regular reports from the others stationed nearby.

Weiss extracted an embroidered handkerchief from her pocket and mopped her sopping brow. Surveillance vans couldn't have air conditioning lest its presence reveal that all wasn't as it seemed. She understood the reasoning but, at this moment, wished an exception had been made; heat wafted from the electronics all around her.

Annoyingly, the forehead of the other occupant of the van appeared to be completely devoid of sweat. She had no idea how that was possible. No doubt if she voiced the question Erashan would have given her lecture about mind over matter or something equally frustrating. She didn't particularly want to sit through that now, not when she was already in a bad enough mood.

"Is this going to take much longer?" There were about a thousand things she could have done in the time she'd wasted here.

Erashan studied her for a moment. "Need I remind you that your presence on this operation was your idea?"

He didn't need to remind her; that was why she was regretting it so much. She knew the lost time was self-inflicted. "I didn't expect for it to take this long. You said the meet was scheduled for four."

"And it was. But Torchwick doesn't seem to set much by the way of punctuality."

That was the truth. She really should have suspected that Torchwick would be late, but she hadn't wanted to miss it if he came at the appointed time. In reality she didn't need to be here. The operation would go off smoothly whether she was present or not, but she wasn't here for the sake of efficiency.

Her long-awaited interrogation with Celeste had not gone as planned. There had not been the satisfaction of a confession; instead Celeste had twisted her mind around and raised thoughts that were better left buried. It had been her intention to put that part of her life behind her, instead it followed her just like a wraith.

After that she hadn't been able to face her office and the mountain of paperwork that accompanied hosting a Ball. She'd had to get out and do something to take her mind off it. This operation had seemed perfect. For the first time in months she had Myrtenaster at hand with the full intent of using it if trouble arose. In combat she didn't need to think, didn't need to worry about the possible chain of events a single decision from her could set into motion with ramifications for the entirety of Atlas. Combat was simple. Black and white. This afternoon should have been a relief.

But she hadn't banked on just how uncomfortable the van would be while wearing full body armour. At Erashan's insistence, she'd abandoned her usual combat skirts and was dressed entirely in black plates and ballistic weave. She could see the sense. It had been stupid to rely solely on her Aura to protect her. There was no harm in using body armour. She'd drawn a line at the full-face helmet though; people had to see her.

Of course her discomfort would have been short-lived if Torchwick had arrived on time. Some might have worried that he'd somehow managed to slip their surveillance; fortunately Weiss knew that was impossible. Neither Torchwick nor his sidekick could pick their noses without a dozen people knowing about it.

His file said he was good ̶ ̶ and he'd proven himself to be with his actions in Vale ̶ ̶ but here he was at a major disadvantage. He had no way of knowing that he'd become a target for her security services. Since his pardon he might have been unable to resist the call of an easy score, but for the most part they had been minor in scope ̶ ̶ certainly not large enough to justify the manpower that was watching him ̶ ̶ unfortunately he'd unwittingly attracted her attention.

Her teams had plenty of experience in observing someone. Torchwick didn't know anything he did on his scroll was routed through her servers; his calls were listened to; his rented apartment and car had been bugged. They had eyes and ears on every inch of his life and, in all honesty, it was fascinating.

Though he had chosen a less than reputable career path Torchwick was a professional. The way he wove all the different threads of a con together was miraculous. He managed to balance a dozen spinning plates, a dozen marks all at the same time, and no one was off the table. Not ordinary businessmen and women, not nobles, and not even other criminals. If Torchwick thought he could make money from them and get away with it, that was exactly what he did; just like he was doing now.

Torchwick had unwittingly led them to the hideout of a criminal gang that various Council initiatives against organised crime had been unable to entirely eradicate. They were not people to be trifled with, but Torchwick didn't seem to care. In Weiss' opinion he was simply doing it for the thrill. He sought excitement rather than financial gain, and the bigger the risk the better.

A voice came over the radio. "Targets sighted. Sector four."

Weiss found the appropriate monitor on the bank in front of her. It was Torchwick and likely Neo as well. That was always hard to tell. Watching the feed from their apartment Weiss had seen her shed an entire appearance as easily as most shed clothes. Neo could have been almost anyone, and judging by the reports from Vale, camouflage was only the tip of her skillset.

A steady stream of observers checked in as the pair passed their positions before coming to the warehouse where the meet was set to take place. If it had been anyone else Weiss would have ordered them taken into custody already, but there was no harm in them stealing from other criminals, plus she wanted to see them in action for herself. See if Torchwick was really able to pull off a scheme as audacious as this one.

They hadn't been able to get bugs inside the warehouse; not when it was alive with activity throughout the day and night. They were blind in there, but it didn't matter. Most of the con had been carried out in neutral locations they had been able to observe. All that would happen today was that Torchwick would exchange his briefcase of  _merchandise_  for cash. The moment he left the building he would be arrested along with everyone else. Not that he would see the inside of a prison cell; both he and Neo were far too useful to incarcerate.

The next few minutes trickled by as they all waited. Weiss checked Myrtenaster just as she knew everyone else poised would be checking their own weapons. They were pointless checks, ones that she had already made a dozen times, but in these moments they always seemed utterly vital.

An explosion rocked the van on its tires. Dimly Weiss recognised what had caused it. Dust, likely unrefined and still in its crystal form. Highly unstable, it was the bane of any mining operation. Just how it had ended up in the middle of her city was certainly something that merited investigation. Weiss managed to process all that at the same time she barked an order into her microphone.

"All teams move in." The deal had gone south and she wouldn't let any disturbance boil over to affect civilians. They would shut it down here. Their van was already in motion by the time she'd finished speaking and she almost tumbled out of her chair.

They didn't have far to travel; they'd only been a block away. Weiss threw the doors open and jumped out. Traces of smoke clouded the air as smaller explosions caused the walls to tremble. Erashan came out behind her, a steady stream of orders coming from him; as usual he was making her wishes a reality.

The few people who had been in the street were standing frozen, showing the usual reaction that civilians had to danger. "Get out of here," Weiss shouted. She didn't know if it was her cry or another van screeching to a halt with armed soldiers pouring from it that encouraged them to move. When they did they ran.

The fireteam moved with premeditated efficiency. The operation might have deteriorated, but there was always a backup plan. They moved until they pressed against the walls on either side of the nearest door, pressed a black pad to it, and then braced. Weiss did too, turning her face away.

There was a thump, and the door caved in. A grenade flew through the opening. A dozen much louder bangs followed, all accompanied by flashes of light. Protected by their full-face helmets her troops moved in before they'd finished.

As much as Weiss had come here to lose herself in combat, she let them the work. Even the best hunter on the continent would get in the way here. Skill did not make up for hours and hours of practice together.

As the police arrived and began to create a cordon around the area she followed her team through the door, Erashan preceding her as ever. It was difficult to see inside. Following standard protocol the power had been cut and the smoke wasn't helping matters. It wasn't thick, but a fire was definitely burning.

She only just managed to avoid tripping on a body. He wasn't dead, or at least he shouldn't have been. Her teams were armed with Yellow Dust rounds; technically classed as less-than-lethal they overloaded the victim's nervous system, but nothing was absolute.

Those on the floor here may have been fighting, or they may have been running for the exit. Ultimately it hadn't mattered. In situations like this her teams treated everyone as hostile. Between the breaching charge and flashbang the criminals hadn't stood a chance.

More shots came from up ahead. It would have been a firefight if it wasn't so one sided. There were the reports of live rounds, more panic fire than anything, and then the careful bursts of her soldiers. Room by room they swept the building, their reports coming through her earpiece. Warmth filled Weiss. This was her well-oiled machine in action. Her father would have been proud of what she'd constructed.

He might have disagreed, but she'd always been of the mind that a Schnee should lead from the front. Be willing to do whatever she ordered her subordinates to. She ran towards where Torchwick should have been. She didn't meet any resistance, but then hadn't expected to; ADRG only recruited the very best, they didn't make mistakes.

It became obvious she was going the right way as the temperature soared. The main room of the warehouse was aglow with flames. The Dust explosion had ripped a hole in the roof, bringing it down in a cascade of twisted metal. Nearby crates had been thrown across the room by the concussive force, spilling their contents.

It was with some trepidation that Weiss noticed the rifles were the model used by the Atlesian Military, and one of the latest at that. After witnessing first-hand what military hardware could do in the wrong hands in Vale, she'd clamped down on the trade of it, and clamped down hard. Selling or  _accidentally misplacing_  weaponry carried a death sentence. It was harsh, but it was necessary. And it obviously wasn't harsh enough for some. The evidence here could prove vital to catching them.

"Get that fire under control," Weiss keyed her microphone as she dashed forward ducking under a spar from the roof.

Dust accidents were always nasty, mainly due to their unpredictability. At any moment another crystal might release its latent energy. The moment she saw the hungry flames Weiss raised her right hand and pulled Myrtenaster's trigger with her left.

Ice sprayed from her glyph. The slush evaporated almost instantly when it came into contact with the fire. She needed more. It took an effort of will to tap the reserve of blue Dust sewn into her the undergarments she was wearing beneath her body armour. Her tailor normally embroidered a line or two of Dust into all her clothes. After the Osier ball she never wanted to be in a similar situation entirely unarmed again.

Cold seeped into her skin as the Dust flared. The ice flowing from her glyph turned into a torrent which beat back the flames. Deftly she rotated her glyph, wielding it like a huge hose, manoeuvring it wherever the fire was hottest. But she was only one person; flames surged in her wake.

Erashan stood impotently at her side. Though nothing would have stopped him risking the danger with her, he had no ability with Dustcraft. He could do nothing to help her. Weiss could feel her skin searing in the scalding heat, but she refused to withdraw.

A cerulean ball flew over her head. It crashed down in the midst of the fires before erupting in a wave of cold. A soldier appeared next to her, a fresh sphere steadily growing in his hand. Weiss exchanged a nod with him.

A finger-width beam of blue shot out, ice blossoming on whatever surface it touched. More troops arrived to answer her call. The majority of ADRG had been recruited straight from the top combat schools on the planet; the rest had excelled in Special Forces regiments around the world. Those who had external Semblances put them to good use. Weiss recognised all of them; she'd studied the troops under her command.

"Someone deal with the smoke," Weiss yelled. With so much steam erupting where the copious amounts of ice melted it wafted over them all, searing her eyes and clawing its way down into her lungs. She could have of course, but she had a natural affinity for Blue Dust. Knowing when to delegate was one of the key skills of leadership. Wind rushed in from behind her, driving the smoke away and through the hole in the roof.

With the combined efforts of around half of her troops they gradually beat back the flames. They were far more effective than any firefighters could have been, but then most firefighters didn't have Semblances or copious supplies of Dust.

As her soldiers on the opposite side of the conflagration linked up it became easier until there was only what appeared to be the source of the flames left, the Dust containers. With a last concentrated effort they buried them beneath a mountain of ice.

Weiss sagged, her glyph disappearing, and she wasn't the only one. No amount of training could prepare someone for an extended use of their Semblance. It was utterly exhausting and a nerve pounded against her temple.

At that moment all Weiss wanted to was sit down in the filthy water pooled at her feet, but she couldn't. She had to set an example for those under her. She couldn't show any signs of weakness. Straightening her spine she turned to Erashan. "Are they in custody?"

He checked before shaking his head. "They aren't, but they haven't breached the perimeter. They likely went to ground." With Neo nothing was ever certain, but she'd ordered no one to be let in or out.

Weiss activated her microphone. "Targets Alpha and Beta are still unaccounted for. Sweep the building. Find them."

Weiss tried to piece together what had happened here. The Dust wouldn't have exploded without a reason. Most likely Torchwick hadn't been as clever as he thought he was. He'd missed a single detail that had brought the scam tumbling down around him. Or maybe he'd just insulted the wrong person as he was apt to do. The fire had most likely been a desperate escape plan.

It had certainly caused enough chaos. Between it and their efforts to combat the flames a large amount of the  _merchandise_ had been destroyed and that was discounting the bodies. Torchwick certainly was ruthless when he needed to be. It was a good trait to have.

Once the sight of burnt corpses would have made her stomach revolt, now they barely touched her. She just made sure they hadn't been wearing the clothes of either of their targets. It hardly mattered that they were dead anyway. Every single person who'd been in this building would be charged with weapons trafficking and with this amount of evidence they wouldn't be acquitted.

"Ma'am! Sir!" The shout didn't come over the radio and Weiss turned to see a soldier beckoning her over.

The congregated soldiers were straining to move a section of the roof that had collapsed. Beneath it a small figure was lying protectively over a larger one. Their skin, hair, and clothes were blackened. They'd been lucky that the roof hadn't crushed them, but the flames had found them still.

Weiss swore internally. Her curiosity to see them in action had backfired. If she'd just had them brought in straight away none of this would have happened. It was just another addition to her long list of mistakes.

Despite how the effort made her head pound, she cast a black attraction glyph above the twisted metal. With its help the soldiers managed to open up a path. She was the first down it. Like the rest of the building it stank of the remnants of fire. There was something else on the ground though, some kind of thick gelatinous fluid that was dissolving even as she looked at it.

Removing her glove she pressed her fingers to the girl's neck. The moment Weiss touched her, Neo's eyes flared open. They took in the armed soldiers all around, the one touching her, and she snarled. Or at least tried to; without sound it didn't seem all that threatening. Neo attempted to push herself, to fight, but her body betrayed her. Her arm shook before giving way and she collapsed unconscious on top of the one she'd sought to protect.

Weiss caught his wrist. His pulse was weak, but it was there. They were both alive, just. She rose. "Get them to hospital." The gathered soldiers parted as she strode through them, her chin up and her spine straight.

* * *

 

Weiss hated hospitals. She hated the smell. She hated the antiseptic white of every surface. But most of all she hated the waiting. It didn't matter how much money she had in her accounts, or how many thousands of soldiers she could deploy with a command, time trickled by regardless.

Normally she would have been pleased for it. There simply weren't enough hours in the day for everything vying for her attention. An extra one or two would have been a godsend. If time really flowed slower in the grounds of a hospital she would have moved her office here years ago, but it didn't. It was only an illusion brought about by her helplessness. And her guilt.

It was inevitable that the familiar demon had found her once again. She shouldn't have felt guilty. Torchwick and Neo were criminals. They might have been selling fake jewels instead of guns, but they must have seen evidence of the weapons. Under different circumstances they would be sharing the fate of the rest of the gang. They were bad people and the situation was of their own making. It shouldn't have fallen on her shoulders as well.

It did though. Despite how they were criminals, she'd read the reports from Vale. Roman and Neo had kept those she'd once called her friends safe; they'd guided them through a world most had been unsuited for, and seen that they got out the other side. Despite how Yang, Blake, and the rest had abandoned her, Weiss still felt like she owed the pair of them for that.

Looking down at their beds she unsuccessfully attempted to crush the pangs. Neither had come through unscathed. Neo's burns had only been superficial, Roman's had been much worse, and that wasn't mentioning the bullet he'd taken in the back. He'd already been through one round of surgery and it would be Neo's turn anytime now.

In a thin hospital gown she was a truly tiny thing. If not for her figure it would have been hard to believe she was more than a child. With half her hair scorched and her eyebrows singed off she looked pitiful. At least she would survive though; Roman's future was much less certain. Any plans Weiss had had for the pair of them had been shelved.

A nurse knocked politely on the open door. "Lady Schnee," she curtseyed when Weiss turned to her. Even in a hospital she was unable to escape the weight of her bloodline. "We need to begin prepping Neopolitan for surgery. We could wait if you wish."

"No, begin now." Weiss walked past her and the rest of the nurses in the corridor, she'd lingered here for too long anyway. She'd have to work all night to catch up with the workload she'd missed today.

Two of her soldiers were stationed outside the room on the off chance that the pair of them had tried to slip away. They wouldn't be needed; Roman wouldn't be moving under his own power for some time.

A crash came from behind her and a woman screamed. Weiss reversed her course with a squeal from her shoes. She burst back into the room. A nurse clutched her arm, blood streaming from the scratch marks beneath her fingers. The rest of the hospital staff had pressed themselves back again the walls. The two guards had drawn their sidearms and were pointing them at the figure knelt on top of the bed.

Neo's eyes were wide and panicked. She didn't know where she was, she didn't know what was happening, she'd been undressed against her will, and people were pointing guns at her. She seemed unable to decide whether fight or run.

Weiss pushed the two pistols down towards the floor. That they contained Dust rounds didn't placate her anger. In the state she was in they didn't need guns to deal with Neo.

"Leave," Weiss instructed the hospital staff and they gratefully obeyed. "Where's Mae?"

"Here," Mae said breathlessly from behind her. The translator must have started running the moment she heard the commotion.

With that sorted, Weiss turned her attention back to Neo. She'd managed to get a syringe from somewhere and held it between them as if it were a mighty sword.

"We're not going to hurt you." To her side Mae signed her words. As far as she knew that wasn't necessary; Neo could hear, she just couldn't speak.

Judging by her tightening knuckles and bared teeth Neo didn't believe her.

"You were in an accident." That was probably the most diplomatic way of putting it. "Do you remember?"

Neo didn't respond. Weiss caught how often her eyes were flicking to her two men. They seemed to scare her far more than she or Mae did, and it wasn't to do with the fact they were armed. Weiss really didn't want to deduce the reason why; her traitorous mind didn't listen to her though.

"Go and wait at the end of the corridor."

"Ma'am, that really ̶ ̶ "

"Do not second guess me. That was an order," she hissed at them. They might only have been concerned for her safety, but she'd made her will clear.

With them gone Neo's attention finally settled on her. Looking into her eyes Weiss was given a glimpse of just how unstable she was. The reports had inferred that sure, but there was a big difference from reading and coming face to face with it. Weiss had no doubt that if provoked Neo would at least try and kill everyone in the hospital.  _Try,_ because as weak as she was the overweight security guard downstairs would probably be able to restrain her.

"You were in an accident. You were hurt. You're in hospital." Even though Weiss kept her voice calm and reassuring, Neo's nostrils flared and she signed something around her makeshift weapon.

"Get back," Mae translated for her.

Weiss withdrew a step, keeping her hands in plain sight. "Do you know who I am?"

Neo gave a minuscule nod. It wasn't surprising. In all honesty Weiss longed for the day when the answer to that question was no.

"Then you know you've worked with me before." Technically that was stretching the truth; they'd worked for Ozpin not her, even if their goals had been aligned. "You haven't been arrested. You're not in custody. You're safe here."

Neo didn't believe her. Still brandishing the syringe she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Weiss didn't need the silent gasp to guess just how much that movement had hurt. In some ways Neo was the unluckier of the two; her burns hadn't seared off her nerves. Neo wasn't a stranger to pain though, and she dropped down onto the cold floor. Her thin legs trembled. The flesh exposed by the gown was crisscrossed with old scars.

Neo had to brace herself against the bed to support her weight. Her whole body shook. Weiss had seen enough. She took a step forward despite Neo's earlier protestations. "Get back into bed. You're in no state to be up."

Few would have refused her when she addressed them in that tone. Neo was one of the few though. She bared her teeth and Weiss' vision swam. It was as if a thick, clouded window had been placed between them. Neo was still there, but her features were blurred.

Weiss shook her head and definition returned to her gaze. Under any other circumstances she was sure she would have been left wondering just how Neo had vanished, in these particular ones though, Neo had barely been able to sustain her Semblance for more than a few heartbeats.

She tried to make use of the distraction. The half a dozen feet between hers and Roman's beds was a chasm she obviously didn't trust herself to cross unaided. Slowly she worked her way along the various tables holding medical equipment.

For someone who had the strength of a qualified huntress her tottering was pitiful. Weiss couldn't bear to see anyone brought so low.

"Neo…"

She spun around, almost falling in the process, to find the pair of them staring at her. The shock on her face plainly stated she'd believed her Semblance had worked. Her outline blurred again, but this time it was only the slightest smudge.

"You're safe here," Weiss reiterated. "You don't need to escape."

Having finally reached Roman's bed Neo reached behind her, fishing for his hand laying atop the covers. No doubt she felt the numerous wires attached to it, but she shook it anyway. He didn't respond.

"You need rest." Weiss halted as Neo brandished the syringe in her direction again. There were tears in the corner of her eyes. No one liked being powerless; especially those who weren't used to it.

Neo's desperate shaking of Roman increased in intensity. This time she did get a reaction out of him; he spasmed against her touch.

"Stop! You're hurting him." Weiss moved forward intending to drag her away.

Neo froze. Incredibly slowly she turned around and for the first time got a good look at the person who was clearly so special to her. The syringe fell from her limp fingers. His numerous injuries were not a pleasant sight, but it could have been worse. At least Neo was spared that by the bandages.

The parts of his face skin that she could see were either scorched red or mottled black with bruising. Neo trembled and this time Weiss knew it was not with fatigue. She was terrified.

"It's going to be ok." It was a lie, there was no way Weiss could promise that, but it was a kind lie. Neo didn't believe it though, her imagination was running wild. No doubt she saw herself losing him, being alone in the cruel world.

The tears streaming down her face were silent, but they were no less powerful for it. Turning towards Weiss her face crumpled. Her hands shook as she signed.

"Help him," Mae translated.

Neo swallowed hard and opened her mouth. "Please," she begged. Even without being broken by grief, her voice was deeper than it should have been from such a tiny girl. It sounded as if it hadn't been used in years.

"I promise." Weiss managed to suppress her shock at the plea. A single word, hesitant and fragmented, but it had contained an entire world of feeling and desperation. Few things could have persuaded Neo to break her self-imposed silence; fear for Roman was one of them. "But he would want you to get better as well."

Neo looked at the floor. Weiss doubted she would ever hear another word from her. "Get into bed." She held out her hand for support. Neo was too proud to accept it, but she did take her advice. Slowly she shuffled back across the room, before hauling herself into her bed. She rolled over and buried her face in the soft pillow.

Weiss signalled Mae out of the room. This outpouring of pain was no place for outsiders. It resonated with a feeling deep inside Weiss. At this moment in time she understood Neo perfectly. It was with great care that Weiss drew the covers over her shuddering form. Neo flinched when she sensed someone so close. Weiss shushed her. She tucked Neo in and then she left her.

Ultimately everyone was alone in their grief, and just because Neo didn't make a sound as she wept, it didn't mean she was suffering any less.

**A/N: So Neo has finally spoken. If you've read _Roman's Grotto_  you will know that her affliction is purely psychological, and here she found something which superseded her pain. On the other hand we saw both the  _Ice Queen_ , and Weiss. She is both very scary, and very sad.**

 


	7. Chapter 7

Yang almost couldn't believe what her feet were telling her. After what seemed like an age of walking on shifting sands, her footing was stable once more. If not for the fact it would have fried her lips black, she would have kissed the stable plateau of rock forming the only road for hundreds of miles.

"It's not that much further," Yang spoke to the shadow behind her.

Blake could only find the energy to nod. A multiday trek through a scorching desert would have been hard enough for anyone, but Blake had it worse. The Falak's venom had taken its toll on her. Without the antidote it would have killed her; even when it was administered quickly, it sometimes wasn't enough. Her above average strength Aura, and the fact that she was young and healthy, had worked in her favour.

Blake had survived, but she hadn't come through unscathed. That much was clear to Yang. Blake had been delirious for much of the first night and the following days. It had been all Yang could do to get fluids down Blake's throat and attempt to control her temperature. Of course, the desert sun had made it that much harder.

In an ideal world, despite the harsh environment, it would have been preferable to keep Blake there until she recovered. But they didn't live in an ideal world. They'd brought enough supplies to last for a hunt, not for days of recovery. Unless they wanted to die of thirst, they had to try and get back.

Forcing Blake to rise and leave their shelter had not been pleasant. The first day they'd covered about a tenth of their usual distance. It had been clear that Blake's body wasn't up to the strain. It had only taken the slightest misstep to send her sprawling.

In that tent that night she'd cried, begging not to be dragged out into the desert again. It had torn Yang's heart apart, but the following morning she'd done exactly that. Only by keeping a hand on Blake had she been able to force her to take one step and then another. Those days had been painful, both physically and emotionally, but they'd made better pace.

Blake's recovery was slow, but at least it was a recovery. Blake would get the rest she deserved when they got back to a semblance of civilization. With the discovery of the road they had their first sign that her respite wasn't that far away.

"We should be there in a couple of hours," Yang cheerfully tried to raise Blake's understandably low spirits. Of course, she didn't say there was always a chance that  _civilization_  had moved on. That was the problem with nomadic settlements; they weren't always where you left them.

Yang paused for a moment. As she allowed Blake to catch her breath, she studied her friend. To say her appearance didn't look good was an understatement. Not only was she gasping down air, but her skin was grey and her expression strained. In the nights her boots had come away bloody, blisters caused by her unusual gait. She was suffering, and it was a situation entirely of her own making.

Maybe that wasn't fair, but Yang hadn't been able to help thinking it. What she'd told Blake was true. Over the past few years, out of the two of them, Blake always got hurt more. It wasn't just because of the relative strength of their Auras, Blake always seemed to find the way to paint a target on herself. It probably wasn't even deliberate; without even realising it, Blake was still trying to make up for all the crimes of her past. In her mind, atonement was entirely beyond her.

It wasn't right. In Vale Blake had closed that chapter of her life; the White Fang had been consigned to the pages of history as thoroughly as possible. Since then she'd become a much better person. She spent her days fighting monsters and protecting those who were unable to defend themselves. Her parents would have been proud of who Blake was. But for her, it just could never be enough.

Over the past two years Yang had tried to alter her way of thinking, tried to get her to stop blaming herself. It never worked. In the tent she'd wanted to try something different, something which didn't sit particularly well with her, but she was at her wit's end. In her opinion any sort of feelings for another should never be used for blackmail, but she was unable to deny the effectiveness when it had been the other way around. Once upon a time the promise of the future had given her strength in the present. She wished the same would be true for Blake, but she never remembered.

For now, she had to recover physically. "Do you want to stop for a while?"

Blake carried on resolutely down the road. "No. Just… keep going."

Yang fell in behind her. It was better this way. Despite carrying all of their supplies her pack was worryingly light. Blake's slow pace had forced them to linger in the desert much longer than they'd planned, and their provisions were running low.

The road wasn't much of one; it wasn't even manmade, but for Blake it was a godsend. The stable surface allowed her staggering gait a certain amount of rhythm. Yang stayed close behind her, not only keeping an eye on her but also their surroundings.

Thankfully they hadn't encountered any Grimm since the Falak, but, as life had invariably taught her, the one time she lowered her guard would be the time they appeared. The Grimm were the main reason those who chose to live outside of the major settlements remained semi-nomadic.

In this part of Vacuo, what the Grimm lacked in terms of numbers they more than made up for in size. The Deathstalkers that resided in the desert were at least half again as large as those from Vale; they perhaps weren't as aggressive as their Valesh cousins, but when roused to anger they were twice as deadly.

The Vacuan nomads had long since come to terms with that particular facet of their lives. To avoid the Grimm they stayed on the move ̶ ̶ out of their migratory patterns ̶ ̶ and as such only had to deal with the Grimm who went rogue. Grimm like the Falak the pair of them had been contracted to hunt down.

Yang could only pray that the herders they were heading towards hadn't decided to move on ahead of schedule. She didn't want to think of the consequences if they had. It would never have been her choice to be so deep into the desert, so far from any real civilization, but it was just the way life had played out.

Being a freelancing hunter was a lot more difficult than she'd ever thought it would have been. All the best and easiest assignments were given to those who were employed by companies; only the scraps were left for them. It had always been her dream to explore the world and she'd believed she'd be able to pay her way with a little work on the side. Now she knew reality. The never-ending desert was not the interesting experience she'd had in mind.

A bleat reached her ears. A bleat. Such a crisp pure sound; she'd almost forgotten what one sounded like. The unconscious tensions that she'd been carrying in her body for the past few days drained away. Where there were goats, there would be those who tended them.

It wasn't long before they saw one of the goatherds ensuring that none of his livestock wandered too far. He didn't raise an arm in greeting. By now it was what Yang expected. She'd always believed she had an easy-going attitude, that she could make friends with anyone, but she just hadn't been able to make any inroads with the natives who lived out here.

To them they were foreigners; strangers who were disrespectful of tradition. It didn't matter how much Yang tried. How warm her smile was. Most would barely speak a single word to her, let alone get drawn into a conversation. To be honest, she knew they would be glad to see the back of them. They may have been the hunters who protected them, but they weren't appreciated, merely tolerated.

It took another half an hour for them to begin to see tents. Here they were lucky. Though the people moved on with their livestock they did so in a predictable manner; some of the places they stopped had permanent buildings.

The one Yang led them to had been constructed from dried mud bricks; it wasn't exactly large, but it served as the settlement's inn. The owner nodded in their direction. He was one of the few who interacted with outsiders regularly; the small rooms at the back made up much of his custom.

"Hey Azrac is our room still free?" At this time of day the dingy building was empty of patrons.

"It is indeed al-aanisa." He gave a small bow. "I humbly awaited for your return."

It had taken Yang a while to be able to understand his thick accent or his overly polite phrases. He was no doubt pleased to see them, or more accurately the return of their coin. The rates he charged were close to extortionate, but unless they wanted to sleep in their travelling tent again they didn't have a lot of choice. At the moment Yang would have emptied her wallet for a proper bed.

He peered around Yang at Blake. "Is she… well? Shall I fetch the Charaka?"

"No," Yang said quickly. "She just needs some rest." Azrac had good intentions. Blake did need medical attention, but she didn't need to bled to restore the balance of her humours, or fed some disgusting sacred insects. It had always been her opinion that she was open minded, but how such backwards nonsense still thrived was entirely beyond her.

Waving to him, Yang guided Blake towards the back. The walls were thick and double layered, they kept the heat out in the day while maintaining the temperature at night. In the bowels of the building their room was blessedly cool.

Blake didn't need much encouragement to lie down; she fell face first onto the bed the moment she was able to.

"Talk to me." Yang crouched down next to her. Blake had barely said ten words the entire day. "How are you, really?"

The only response Yang got was a grunt, though to her ears it seemed like it came more from exhaustion than pain.

"I can't let you sleep just yet. I need to change your bandages." They both knew what that would entail and neither looked forward to it.

As Yang began to unlace Blake's boots she distantly became aware that Blake must reek. They both must. They hadn't been able to shower or bathe for weeks. Initially her own stench had nearly driven her insane, but as the days passed her awareness of it faded. The human body could get used to anything, even having an odour strong enough to fell a camel.

Blake's blisters had reopened. She hissed as her socks came away matted with blood. Her feet were a mess, so much so that Yang had no clue how she'd managed to walk on them. Sometimes Blake's tolerance for pain amazed her, but it upset her that she'd had the necessity to develop it.

Azrac wasn't exactly enthused by her request for a bowl of precious water, but Yang didn't leave him much of a choice. Blake had lost her battle with sleep by the time she returned and, as she had done so many times before, Yang tended the wounds of her best friend.

It was honestly exhausting. She hated every little quiver, every whimper, every time she had to hurt Blake to help her. Blake never seemed to think of this part when she threw herself in the way of danger. She might have saved those around her physical wounds, but often those were the quickest to heal. Blake would recover in a few days; Yang knew it would take her much longer.

By the time she'd finished darkness had fallen and Yang tucked Blake in before leaving the room. The moment she reappeared in the common area the hubbub of conversation died. After what she'd just suffered through, the cold stares were too much. She went straight to Azrac, got a drink, and walked out into the cool night.

She was met with equally intense attention outside. Even in the darkness, with her bronze skin and blonde hair, there was no chance of anyone mistaking her for a native. She left the tents behind and climbed a nearby hill. There wasn't much to see in terms of the landscape, just sand stretching off in one direction and arid dirt in another, but the sky more than made up for it. Without the lights of civilization, an innumerable canopy of stars stretched above.

Looking at them all, thinking about just how many planets were orbiting them all, made her feel ever so small. It wasn't a feeling she'd ever quite managed to lose since the White Fang attack on Vale. That was the first time she had to come to a realisation that, even with her skills as a huntress, some things were just so much larger than her.

She sipped her lyrrd. Made from fermented goat's milk the traditional drink was an acquired taste she hadn't quite managed to pick up. Still, it was certainly strong enough. Her head began to float away.

Settling down against a large rock still warm from the sun, she dragged her hand through the dust lying atop the baked soil. If asked three years ago where she saw herself now, she would not have said here. In the middle of a desert surrounded by hundreds of miles of nothing. In the midst of people who quite clearly resented her. Everything had gone wrong, but there was nothing she regretted more than losing her sister.

Ruby's absence had left a gaping hole in her heart. It was an expression that was overly used, but that was honestly what it felt like. Part of her was just missing, and it hurt. The only solace was that she was certain Ruby wasn't dead. If her sister died, Yang knew that no matter the distance between them she would just know; even the moon would have dimmed.

There were some days where she was millimetres from throwing caution to the wind, and plastering her name and location all over the internet in the hope that Ruby would see. But she couldn't. That would have meant losing Blake instead.

After the massacre in Vale, Yang had not re-joined the ranks of the  _victorious_  army or taken part in the celebrations. In Ozpin's twisted mind that made her a traitor. Even though she was wanted for desertion, so were others; Ozpin probably wouldn't have gone through the hassle of trying to extradite someone so insignificant.

Blake though, she was a different story. They didn't know if a prisoner had confessed in an attempt to save their life, or if Adam had left evidence behind, but the result was the same. Ozpin knew everything about Blake's past. Knew that he'd had a terrorist under his very nose and that a teenager had managed to fool him. Managed to fool someone who prided themselves on being one step ahead of everyone else.

Ozpin had pledged to wipe out the White Fang and only one member remained. Blake was wanted. In every country on the planet there were orders for her arrest. Neither of them failed to deduce what would happen she faced Ozpin's  _justice_.

Atlas might have been safe, but then again it might not have been. The Ice Queen ruled it completely. The Ice Queen, not Weiss. In all honesty Yang wondered whether she had ever really known her at all; her actions rivalled Ozpin's for brutality.

They had been too much for Ruby. Yang didn't blame her sister at all for leaving. All her blame fell on Weiss… and herself. If she'd just seen the person Weiss really was sooner, she could have saved Ruby all of her undoubted heartache.

Aside from the televised broadcast of the end of the White Fang, it had taken Ozpin weeks to allow non-military traffic through the CCT. By that time it had been too late. Ruby was gone and Weiss hadn't known where she was either. In that phone call Yang had said some things that she didn't regret, but had undoubtedly burned any bridges she'd had with Weiss.

Without any sanctuary from Ozpin's reach, even for Ruby, she couldn't risk revealing herself online. She still tried of course, but the websites were obscure with references only Ruby would be able to understand. So far they lay unvisited. The only solace was that she knew Ruby wouldn't have wanted her to risk Blake's safety. Eventually they would find each other again.

Yang sat on the hilltop thinking until the cold managed to defeat her Semblance. Her feet were unsteady beneath her. Either this cask of lyrrd had been more potent than usual or she hadn't realised just how much her Aura had been depleted by the hunt. It took her much longer than it should have to stumble back to their room and burrow under the covers next to Blake. Yang wrapped an arm around her. Blake was warm and she was soft.

* * *

 

The first thing that Yang noticed on her return to consciousness was the invisible nail buried in her forehead. The second sensation that reached her was the smell of fried meat. She opened her eyes and found Blake setting down a tray on the table next to their bed.

"Oh sure, you wake up now. Not when I was cooking," Blake said, but with a grin. In the light filtering in through the slits in the wall she looked good, better than good, or at least better than she had been. There was colour in her cheeks again and her eyes had lost their pained edge; in fact they glittered.

Yang pushed herself up onto an arm, but Blake stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "No, stay there. I wanted to say thank you. So…" She gestured at the plates of food, "thank you. I know I probably wasn't all that easy to deal with."

"You were fine." Yang honestly felt touched, but she felt something else more, and the feeling was reinforced by her stomach rumbling.

With her hearing there was no way that Blake had missed it, her teeth showed. "Well I would argue about that, but I guess other things are more important. What do you want to start with? There's goat milk, goat cheese, goat sausages, goat chops." As Blake rattled off the list, each time emphasising 'goat' just a little more, Yang couldn't help but grin; Blake was in a playful mood. "I'm afraid I turned down the goat brain and eyes, but I did manage to find something that seems suspiciously like bacon. I'll give you a guess to which animal it's from."

"A pig?" Yang took the plate Blake handed her. The smell wafting from the thin strips of meat was what had roused her from her slumber. It almost smelt right; the scent was just slightly off.

"Surprisingly… no," Blake delivered in her deadpan tone. "I'm afraid that's from a goat as well. It still tastes good though."

Yang grunted through her mouthful; she hadn't been able to resist. It might not have been from a pig, but it still contained all of bacon's magical properties for dealing with a hangover. It was only after her third bite that she realised Blake hadn't joined her in eating.

This might have been Blake's way of saying thank you, but it didn't mean that Yang wanted to enjoy it alone. She shifted over and held up the blanket. "Get in and start eating." No matter how ravenous she might have been there was no way she could devour as much as Blake had cooked.

After a moment's hesitation Blake did as instructed. It was only what she deserved; Blake had really outdone herself. There might have been the equivalent of a half a goat or more, but the two of them proved more than a match for the near-feast. It wasn't often they got to spoil themselves, but after the hunt Blake had been right to make an exception.

By the time they were done Yang was sure her stomach was ready to burst at the seams. She massaged it gently as she burrowed deeper into the bed. If any day was appropriate to lie in, today was that day. She turned to face Blake on the pillow. They sometimes didn't share a bed, but she always preferred it when they did.

"Thank you. There's nothing better for a hangover than breakfast in bed."

"Yang it's four thirty." Blake lay down to look at her. "In the afternoon," she added at Yang's widening eyes.

"What?"

"Yep. I could have fired Gambol Shroud next to your ear and it wouldn't have made a difference. You must have been exhausted. So I thought I'd try a different approach. It seemed to work."

It had. Despite her surprise at learning she'd slept through much of the day, her body must have really needed it. Between having to care for Blake and carrying all their supplies she'd really pushed herself over her limits the last few days without even realising it.

"But like I said, it was my way of saying thank you."

"You don't need to mention it. It's what friends do for each other."

Blake took several long seconds before she spoke again. "Just friends? I… I remember what you said."

Yang couldn't help her jaw dropping open in surprise. In that moment, in that admission, Blake was vulnerable. Yang saw it in her eyes, even as Blake tried to look anywhere but at her. After everything that had happened to her, Blake had trouble opening up, baring the core of herself. When she did she expected only pain. Yang couldn't promise that there wouldn't be, no one could promise that, but she could promise that any pain would not be caused deliberately.

"Look, between us it's always been..." Blake searched around for the right word, "complicated. There are about a million reasons why we shouldn't be here now, why we should never have worked out, but we are here." She forced herself to look back at Yang. "With the amount of time we spend together we should drive each other mad, but somehow we don't.

"We've been together in every way that matters. We've shared our thoughts and our food. We've bound one another's wounds, mine more than yours admittedly… We've slept close to share our warmth when it was all that we had left to share. I've cried on your shoulder and you've cried on mine. You've carried me when I was almost dead. We've shared our lives for so long and I wouldn't have wanted anything else."

Yang's throat caught as Blake spoke. The words were romantic, so full of feeling. If she'd ever doubted just how Blake actually felt towards her, those doubts were disabused. But at the same time the words tugged faintly at her memory. They were a little too flowing, too poetic, as if they were rehearsed, or…

"Are you quoting a book?" Yang asked with a grin. The rouge that blossomed in Blake's cheeks told her that her intuition was right.

"That's not the point. And it doesn't make it any less true. We have done all that."

"I know, I know. I was just messing with you. Go on."

"You've ruined it now," Blake sulked.

"Sorry."

"You should be, but I want to say this." Blake sat up, taking a moment to regather her thoughts. "When I'm with you I just feel like I can be myself. Me. Not the façade I have to present to the world. I've dragged you into things that anyone else would have walked away from without a backwards glance, but you're still here. You're pretty much the only person that I have left. I know for certain that if not for you I would be dead."

Yang rose sharply. "Don't say that." The last thing she wanted brought to her mind was the image of Blake's corpse.

"You know it's true. I owe you everything. And I will do my best to repay you in any way I can. I swear it."

This had suddenly gotten a lot more serious than pillow talk. "You don't need to. You already have. This hasn't been just you taking. You've already returned everything I've given you and more." Yang hesitated. "If you were lucid then you must remember what else I said.

"I am not going to get into a one-sided relationship with you. Full stop. It's not what I want and not what I'm prepared to do in any way, shape, or form. I said before that we will be equals. In everything. You'll stop putting yourself in danger and you'll also stop thinking that you owe me. I'm not going to have it any other way."

In that Yang was adamant. Moving their relationship past its current comfortable point was a risk. It might cause everything to break down, it might even mean they were unable to look at the each other without feeling sick ̶ ̶ Blake was already struggling to look at her ̶ ̶ but the one thing she was certain of was that any relationship that wasn't equal was doomed to fail from the very start. She'd been in her fair share of them.

"So this is where you decide if you are going to start trusting me. Completely. That we'll be equals."

"Of course I trust you." Blake finally met her eyes.

"Then you're going to have to prove it. But for now, breakfast, or dinner I suppose, in bed is a pretty effective way to get on my good side."

Yang leant into Blake. She didn't have to move far; they'd held their entire conversation with only the scant separation of a few inches. Knowing what was coming, Blake's eyelids fluttered shut. Despite being bereft of makeup Blake was still beautiful, but it wasn't purely a superficial beauty. Unlike so many people she'd known, Blake was a good person, no matter what she thought.

The kiss wasn't deep or long. Yang didn't want to rush things; they'd done that already. Instead their lips barely brushed one another's. The arid air of the desert had taken its toll on both of them. Yang knew that her lips were chafed and hard and Blake's weren't much better. Still, the gentle touch might not have been soft, but Yang savoured the aftertaste of the meal on Blake's flesh.

Breaking apart, Yang could feel her pulse racing. It might have been a simple kiss, but it was one that she had fantasised on and off about for years. No matter what else happened, today was destined to be a good day.

The effect of the kiss on Blake was equally apparent. She attempted to continue it only for Yang to stop her. As much as her surging hormones were trying to persuade her of the foolishness of her intention to take things slow, she was determined to abide by it.

"That's all you get for now. I want to do this right, but don't worry, there will be plenty more in the future." Yang didn't add that it would only be the case if Blake kept her side of the bargain.

"Not fair." Blake leant back against the wall sulking, but there was a hint of playfulness beneath it.

"Nope, it isn't." They remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes. That was one of the best things about spending time with Blake. There was no need for either of them to fill the air with meaningless words.

Yang yawned; despite having slept for over twelve hours straight she was still exhausted. "I suppose we can't spend all day in bed."

Blake laughed. "I know we're meant to be equal in everything, but I don't think the ' _we'_  quite applies here. I was up at dawn. I've actually done something productive with my day. Your clothes are on the table."

They were folded in neat piles, everything she'd worn over the hunt. Water couldn't be wasted on laundry and as such Blake had probably used the method the natives used; shaking them in a bag filled with fine sand and sweet-smelling herbs.

"I also cleaned Ember Celica, sealed the bottles of venom properly, and restocked what supplies I could."

As much as Yang would have liked to say Blake didn't need to do all that, especially when she was recovering from injury, Blake had done it because she wanted to. In such a situation there was really only one thing to say.

"Thank you."

Blake beamed in response. "You're welcome. I didn't turn in the contract though. We should both be there for that."

Certainly if there was anything that made up for the pain and suffering of a hunt, getting paid was it. There was nothing quite like the clink of hard-earned coins.

As much as her body protested she swung her legs from the warm bed. "Let's go and get paid."

* * *

 

The cooling early evening hours were the perfect time for work and as such they only saw the womenfolk and young children of the settlement. When the pair of them came into view the women stopped preparing the evening meal and just stared.

Yang could sort of understand the men's dislike of them. They were two females who didn't conform to their patriarchal cultural expectations. Rather than raising a family ̶ ̶ as they should have been doing according to one drunk the first night ̶ ̶ they were hunters. It no doubt shamed all of the  _strong_  men that their call for help had been answered by two females only just into their twenties.

It was her hope that the reason the women stopped talking in their presence was because they saw something they'd no doubt been led to believe was impossible. Women who made their own decisions, who had chosen their own path in life, without a brother or father telling them what to do. The very concept likely shocked them, and maybe inspired them.

Yang knocked on the door of the Mukhtar's hut. The tribe's headman hadn't been overly enthused to see who had answered his contract either. The grey in his long beard showed just how resistant he was to change, but at least he had put the well-being of his people before his pride.

With his answer they pushed their way inside. The hut wasn't big, it consisted of just two rooms, but it was used more for practicality's sake. The Mukhtar was bent over a small desk pushed into a corner, wireframe glasses on his nose, filling in forms.

Even for a nomadic tribe, paperwork wasn't an unknown entity. The only way they could exist was by selling the produce of their herds to traders, and that meant keeping track of every transaction and complying with all of Vacuo's legislation.

He didn't look up from his work. He no doubt knew who had come to see him, but in his opinion it was their place to wait on his whims. Yang swallowed what she'd been about to say. Like it or not, he was technically their boss at the moment.

The pair of them had to stand there for five minutes before he set down his pen and glasses and turned around. "You're late."

It wasn't the greeting that Yang had been expecting. "Excuse me?"

"I said you're late. You told me five days. Today is the tenth since you departed."

"So? It took longer than expected. It's not exactly a walk in the park out there."

The Mukhtar clearly wasn't used to being spoken to in that way by someone like her. "You're not getting extra pay just because you were late. You get five days."

"No we get ten. Just like you agreed in the contract." Some of the Mukhtars that they'd had to deal with had treated them fairly, but some tried to weasel their way out of the deal.

It was a behaviour that was unfortunately common. When the Grimm were spotted, no one wasted time calling for a hunter to protect them, but when the hunter was successful and it was time to pay up most attempted to renegotiate. It was the sad truth that if the hunter did their job there wasn't much of an incentive for their employer to pay them; the danger was gone. The contracts were meant to prevent that, but, as she and Blake had so often found, they were less than ironclad. In reality, all the way out here, they had no way of enforcing it; they couldn't bring the Falak back to life if he refused to pay.

"No. You said five. You'll get five. It's not my fault it took you so long. Did you actually kill it? Judging by her it appears that you came off worse." He nodded towards Blake; though she appeared much healthier than yesterday it was still clear she was carrying injuries.

"We get paid for ten," Yang reiterated in a hard voice. "And as for your Falak we get extra. It was closer to eight feet than five."

That was another tactic that was depressingly common. Misrepresent the scale of the hunt. If someone sent them after a pair of Deathstalkers and the directions just happened to lead them to a nest they had very little choice but to take them all out. When they were done they'd be very unlikely to get paid for more than two. Many thought they should have done it for free anyway. They didn't seem to be able to comprehend that it was their job, and without getting paid they wouldn't be able to eat.

After the first few times they'd learnt to take that into account when deciding what contract to take, but it was just another reason why so many hunters took commercial contracts. As a freelancer she had very little weight; there was always another willing to step into her shoes. With a company behind them they would get paid fairly and well, but it was just too risky to put themselves in the public eye.

"The one we saw was five. That's what you agreed to."

Yang sighed; she knew she wasn't going to win this battle. It just made her tired. She and Blake had literally bled to defend these people and in return they got ripped off. They didn't even get any thanks. Though many of their hunts ended satisfactorily, ones like this made her rethink her career choice.

"We get ten days and the pay for the Falak." Sensing her mood Blake took over the negotiating.

"Eight days and the agreed fee."

"Ten. Don't make us report you." Blake's threat was largely an empty one. There was no way that any official from Airtafae was going to follow it up when they'd have had to come out to the middle of the desert. The only facet that caused the Mukhtar to purse his lips was the possibility that he'd become known as a cheat and find his future calls for help unanswered.

"Ten and the fee." He held out his hand and Blake took it. They'd been short-changed by a long way. Even by getting ten days instead of five it didn't make up for how much they should have been paid for taking down a Falak of that size.

Yang let Blake handle the rest of the transaction. She showed the Mukhtar the photos of the corpse before he opened his strongbox and counted out a stack of lien. Yang wasn't that interested. On their first true payday she'd been brimming with enthusiasm and pride, but now it hardly seemed worth it.

Yang wasn't sorry when she left the hut without saying goodbye; the Mukhtar had earned it. Blake caught up with her a few seconds later, she at least had tried to maintain a working relationship.

"So what do you want to do?"

"To be honest, sleep." Despite how she'd practically just woken up, the encounter with the Mukhtar had drained most of her energy.

Blake grasped her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. "What is it?"

"I'm just tired. We've spent two months out here and what have got to show for it? A few thousand lien, a few new scars. It isn't worth it."

"Sure, he ripped us off back there, but we still have the venom. That should more than make up for it." After treating Blake's injuries and ensuring she was sleeping peacefully, Yang had filled up all the bottles in her pack. The venom of a Falak was essential for the anti-venom and it fetched a pretty price.

"I don't care about the money. It doesn't help me find Ruby!" Yang half-shouted at Blake who recoiled. It took her a moment to realise what she'd done. "Sorry. I didn't mean that."

Blake looked deep into her eyes and reached forward to clasp her hands. "I understand. I miss her too. But we're doing everything we can. You never know, when we get back to Airtafae she might have gotten in contact. I take it that's what you want to do?"

Yang nodded. As far as she was concerned they weren't doing enough. A few cryptic clues on the web. How was Ruby meant to find them? They should have done more, but just like joining a company it was too dangerous. Ozpin was still searching for them, for Blake. They both had warrants out for their arrest. If they revealed themselves even Vacuan sovereignty wouldn't save them from his wrath.

The same could be said of Ruby. They'd all seen the Atlesian arrest warrant for her, and only one person could have set it. A person that Yang simply didn't want to know anymore. Even if she hadn't driven Ruby away from safety ̶ ̶ and no doubt broken her heart in the process ̶ ̶ what Weiss had done was completely unforgivable. Yang would never have thought that her cute nickname for Weiss would have become so apt or widespread.

"Ok. To be honest I've been thinking about it for a while as well." Blake smiled and rubbed her back as she got them moving again. "So how about we stay for tonight, finish getting supplies tomorrow, and head out the day after? It won't be long before we're within range of the CCT again."

"Yeah." Yang's attempt to perk herself up was only half-successful. "That sounds good."

It did. She'd keep her fingers crossed for news of Ruby, but she'd been disappointed too many times for that hope to be more than fleeting. Even so, back in Airtafae she'd be able to see her dad and Qrow. And she never knew, but maybe they'd run into Raven at the same time.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, this story is now finished on fanfiction.net. I'll keep posting on here every week, but you can skip ahead if you so desire. Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 8

Ruby shifted the shoulder straps of her dress from where they were digging into her skin. She wouldn't exactly say that she'd chosen to refrain from wearing dresses over the last two years, she still wore combat skirts occasionally, but so often shorts or pants were just more practical.

It had been a long time since she'd worn something that was designed for ostentatiousness. The silk lace on her hems would have lasted precisely three seconds in the middle of a rainforest, but then again, at this precise moment, she couldn't be further removed from such a desolate location.

She'd made a mistake coming back to Atlas. Ruby recognised that with her entire being. Her belief in her strength had been entirely misplaced. The closer she'd come to Atlas the more her resolve had wavered.

Just being back in the country had been bad enough. Everything was a reminder: the frigid air, the bluster of snowflakes, the stinging wind. It had only taken a few steps on the frost-covered ground of the air dock for her insides to start squirming.

Time may have been the ultimate healer, but two years just wasn't long enough. Two decades wouldn't have been. Perhaps to fix only a broken heart it would have been enough, but though her heart had been shattered into a hundred thousand pieces by her revelation, it didn't change who still held its deed. The stars would burn out, and the world plunged into eternal darkness before that changed.

Weiss was everywhere in Atlas, and not simply because of her picture plastered on the television screens. Weiss was the chill in the air when she breathed in, and the mist when she breathed out. She was the crunching of the fresh snow under her boots. No matter how small, how silly, everything reminded Ruby of just what she'd once had. What she'd lost.

Most of the time, barely an hour passed before her mind conjured a bittersweet memory of Weiss that tore at her. In Atlas, knowing she was so close, it was barely a minute. Her concentration was shot. The importance of why she'd returned had been buried by an avalanche of regret and longing.

The risk had been for nought anyway. Ruby didn't know why she'd expected any differently. Unlike the Calakmulese, the tale of Merlin wasn't an uncommon one. Atlas' stability had ensured that the legend was well inscribed and stored. It might have been embellished, but it would have been possible to find just as much information as she had on her scroll.

It had been a mistake returning to Atlas. Now that she was here, she could admit it had been an entirely deliberate one. Merlin had been a convenient excuse; something to tell herself that justified the journey. In reality, once she was back here, there was only ever going to be one outcome.

Ruby just wanted to see her again. Not on TV, but in the flesh. She didn't even want to talk her; she wasn't sure if she'd be able to survive the agony of such a confrontation. But maybe, just maybe, if she saw Weiss again, she could say goodbye properly. Then Weiss would stop haunting her dreams.

It had sounded so simple in her head when she'd finally admitted to herself that was the real reason she'd returned to Atlas, but it was so much more difficult to accomplish. In the five days that Ruby had been in Atlas Weiss had not made any public appearances. She'd been sequestered away in Tintagel Castle, though the reasons why hadn't been the topic of conversation on everyone's lips. That honour had been reserved for upcoming Schnee Ball.

It was to be the first one for over a decade, and not one of the celebrity magazines or shows doubted for a moment that it would put every other gathering to shame. The guest list was as expansive as it was exclusive. Almost a thousand people had been invited but, unless you held titles or fortunes, the chance of receiving an invitation had been non-existent. Thanks to the gossip channels Ruby knew almost the entire guest list, but the one name not on it was her own. Not that she was going to let that stop her.

The opportunity was one she simply couldn't miss. Despite what had happened in the end, she still had many happy memories of the balls. If she was to see Weiss one last time, she didn't want it to be in the guise of the Ice Queen. Instead she wanted to see Weiss in a gown, drinking, dancing, laughing, and maybe even happy. Weiss deserved happiness. The Ice Queen did not. But after everything she'd been through, Weiss did. Ruby knew it just couldn't be by her side.

The moment she concocted the plan to infiltrate the Schnee Ball Ruby realised that she'd need help, and a lot of it. Actually infiltrating the grounds of Schnee Estate was within her skillset; deciding what was still fashionable after so long most definitely wasn't.

The number of people that she could call upon was small, and the number that she trusted not to immediately inform Weiss the moment her back was turned even smaller. In the end, she'd whittled her limited options down to one.

Hazel had certainly been shocked when she'd come home from work and to find Ruby waiting outside her apartment. Any number of scenarios could have taken place after those few long seconds of surprise, but Ruby was glad that her trust had not been misplaced. Hazel had invited her inside and offered her refreshments.

After so long spent alone, the simple act of kindness and friendship had almost been too much. She'd lost everything in her flight from Atlas. Yang, her family, her friends… Weiss. Everything that ultimately made life worth living. No one was meant to travel through this life alone, and for the last two years she had. She hadn't connected with anyone for fear of future hurt and betrayal. In her solitude, she'd even forgotten how to string more than two sentences together.

If Hazel wasn't so patient and affable she never would have been able to tell her even half her tale. As it was, Ruby had revealed more than she'd initially anticipated doing. But like she'd found out so long ago, voicing that which was putrefying inside to sympathetic ears helped. She hadn't told Hazel about her problems with Weiss, but she'd revealed just how much it had hurt to be turned away from her chosen career path.

Hazel had proven a good audience, and a better host. Despite the risk, the offer of a bed wasn't one that Ruby could refuse; just falling asleep under the same roof as a friend was a comforting solace that simply couldn't be bought. For the first time in what seemed like an age, she hadn't felt the necessity to mine the doorway or to secure an alternate escape route. Instead she'd felt safe. In that security she'd made up for some of the sleep she'd foregone, and had woken to a package outside the door to her room. The contents of which she'd just donned.

The infiltration of the Schnee Estate had been the easy part; its very size had worked against it. There was the possibility that she'd tripped some form of sensor as she'd leapt the perimeter fence, but if any security had turned up they would have found her long gone. In reality, she doubted that security was that tight. As hard as it was to admit it, absolutely no one would dare to plot against the Schnees anymore. They were untouchable.

Closer to the towering building of Weiss' youth she'd been able to mingle with the frantic bustle of hundreds of staff and contractors finalising the last details. In the midst of that, in her smart pants and shirt, no one had paid her the slightest bit of heed. She'd been able to walk straight through the front doors and into the colossal entrance hall without anyone raising an eyelid.

It had been fortunate that it wasn't the first time she'd visited the Schnee Estate. If it was, her gawking at the impossible beauty and matching extravagance all around would have given the game away. As it was, the literal diamonds and sapphires that made up the Schnee crest did little more than provide traction to her shoes. It was yet another testament to the Schnees wealth and power. What most people wore as their prized possessions they used as flooring. It was no wonder Weiss had grown up without an understanding of the value of money.

Ruby had slipped away from the preparations, but not before she'd had the briefest glimpse of Winter. The CEO of the SDC had been surrounded by a swarm of managers, and she'd been directing them all with brisk efficiency. Winter had been as beautiful as ever, probably more so with the passing of years, but it was her hair that had taken Ruby's breath away. For one long moment the alabaster locks had made her believe she was spying Weiss instead.

She'd left the main entrance hall before she'd done something stupid. The furthest wings of the house had been nearly deserted and it was in a small bedroom that she'd spent most of the day waiting for the sluggish sun to move across the sky.

That she'd been able to find a room with a shower was a boon. It wasn't surprising in a house this size, but it made getting ready a whole lot easier. Hazel hadn't asked why she'd wanted a gown but had no doubt guessed. In the end, Hazel hadn't supplied her with one; there was absolutely no way she would have been able to don one without an attendant. Instead, Hazel had given her a dress that was practical first, but still stylish. Occasionally one of the partygoers with specific requirements felt the need to bring their own servants. That was what she would be today.

Not that being a servant meant her clothes were any less expensive. After all, the servants were an extension of those they served, and any dishonour they earned would fall on their masters. The dress that Hazel had procured for her would have been the finest at anything other than a noble ball. The colours were perhaps muted, so she didn't stand out, but the quality and cut of the material were nothing less than incredible.

After so long spent on the move, to put on this dress, to wear makeup, to do her hair, was a luxury she'd barely realised that she'd missed. It made her feel whole. Her time spent in Atlas had created another side of herself. One that was at home at these balls, surrounded by pageantry and beauty. At one time she'd believed that it was what life would hold in store for her, now she knew better, but she could still reminisce.

Not for long though. The fractured moon glowed in the sky and she'd waited long enough that even the tardiest of attendees would have arrived. For the thousandth time in the last few hours Ruby debated with herself if she was making a huge mistake. Weiss had put out an international warrant for her arrest. She'd made her a criminal wanted across the world. It hadn't affected her chances of becoming a huntress, but it had cost her Yang. Weiss might have been hurt, or angry, or any number of things, but nothing could excuse that.

There was the very real chance that if she saw Weiss again she would throw a punch. What would happen after assaulting the Lady Schnee in the middle of her own ball, she didn't know. There were a hundred and one reasons why just being here was stupidity of the highest order, and only one reason that she should leave the safety of the bedroom. It was sufficient. She pushed open the door.

The soft refrains of music guided her. While it was true that this wasn't the first time she'd visited the Schnee Estate, there was no way she could she could have learned the layout of the mansion even with a month spent exploring. Only a tiny percentage of the house was actually inhabited ̶ ̶ the rest just kept dusted and clean for the sake of appearances. It was for that reason she'd been sure that no one would have burst in on her during the day.

As she neared the great hall she began to hear the babble of conversation. Her heartrate picked up as anticipation blossomed in her chest. Up ahead, servants hurried back and forth carrying platters of food and trays of drinks. The banquet was in full flight.

Though most of the servants wore the neat uniforms that marked them as the Schnee's, there were some who didn't. It was a relief to see that she didn't stand out. Ruby integrated herself with the servants and headed towards the clatter of cutlery.

The balls always started with a meal. Sometimes they were lighter, and sometimes the fare served would have been fit for any restaurant on the planet. The main issue faced by the hosts was that even the most delectable food became the norm if one ate it often enough.

The Schnees may have represented many different things, but the norm was not among them. They, and Ruby guessed more specifically Winter, had not settled for succulent mediocrity. All around her Ruby saw tables bearing meals she couldn't even begin to guess the components of.

It was a gastronomic exploration of the senses. Food was expected to be pleasant upon the tongue, and to satisfy the sight as well, but that was what the basest chefs settled for. Whoever had been hired to create the menu here had gone so much further.

Every plate contained a masterpiece. The food was three dimensional, delicate lattices and frameworks supporting their complimentary ingredients. There were laughs of delight as nobles cut through one shell only to find something entirely different underneath.

On all the tables there were braziers burning and heady scents wafted from them. One table eating a fish course could have been seated before the tempestuous sea based on the rich smell of air emanating from it. Another was sat in a garden of flowers in full bloom, and their plates resonated in a riot of colour.

Sound had been invoked as well as the smells. At one table Ruby heard the gentle whistle of the breeze as it passed through a forest, rustling leaves and stirring the undergrowth. She wasn't quite sure what they were eating, maybe venison, but it had been deconstructed until it was almost unrecognisable.

Some of the dishes were even alive, or at least appeared that way. As one of the waiters removed the covering from a platter those sat around flinched away as it sparked. Lightning Dust had been sprinkled on top and arcs of electricity flared between the pieces. The anxiety turned to glee and the table burst into good-natured laughter as the carving began. Ruby wasn't quite sure if she would have partaken of that particular course; though trace amounts of Dust existed in most things, she'd only ever had to eat Dust once to learn that it was a bad idea. Still, judging by the shock before bliss that settled on those at the table, the Dust only enhanced the flavours.

It was a multi-sensory feast that put to shame anything Ruby had witnessed before. All the build-up of expectations from the gossip channels had not been over-hyped. She very much doubted anyone would forget this evening for a long time.

She certainly wouldn't. The deluge on the senses from all around had been so intense that she'd forgotten to be intimidated by the size of the great hall. There were wings of other noble mansions that could have fit in it with room to spare. Like everything else the Schnees built, it was simply colossal. Not that it lacked in artistry; even the patterns worked into the floor underneath would have been intricate enough to hang in any art gallery. The Schnees sought to be the yardstick that all others measured themselves against, and here they were proving that was the case.

The raised table where the members of Atlas' most esteemed family were meant to be sitting was empty. The places set with silver cutlery untouched. A myriad of emotions passed through Ruby as her gaze settled on what would have no doubt been Weiss' chair. Disappointment, relief, irritation. They passed so quickly she barely had a chance to catalogue just what she was feeling.

But it had taken long enough for her to cease her purposeful movement, and an older lady at a nearby table noticed.

"You there," Ruby started when she became aware that she was being addressed, "come here."

It was the first real test of her disguise. From the depths of her memory Ruby dredged up a name Lady Flore von Berg. Though they'd never talked, but on the occasions when she'd been one of the revellers they'd still encountered each other. Ruby held her breath. Flore peered at her intently through her thick glasses. The sharp line of her mouth became sharper still.

It was only then that Ruby remembered the part she was playing. Flore hadn't equated the servant in front of her with the young girl who'd attended balls with the Schnees, but all that meant was, as far as she was concerned, a servant had been staring directly into her eyes. The heat that grew in Ruby's cheeks fought with her foundation for supremacy and she dropped into a curtsey. It was respectful as it should have been to someone of her station, but also shallow enough to remind her that she wasn't her servant. "Yes my Lady."

Not that Flore seemed to care about the chain of authority. "The nerve. I don't know where they find people like you. It wasn't like this in my day," she didn't try to lower her voice and Ruby had to grit her teeth as the other older members of the table nodded. "Now take this to the kitchens and make me a tea. Be careful only to steep it until the leaves begin to float. Anymore and my gums will ache."

Ruby couldn't see any way to extract herself without drawing even more attention, and risk those around taking a second, longer look at her. She accepted the small embroidered package. "Right away my Lady." This time her curtsey was a little lower and she backed away for a step before turning.

There were so many people in the hall she probably could have gotten away with simply dumping the pouch of herbs; it was highly unlikely that Flore would recall the face of a random servant. At the same time Ruby knew she couldn't just stand at the side of the hall doing nothing. By giving her a task Lady von Berg had unwittingly given her disguise an air of legitimacy.

Though she'd spent time in the Schnee Estate previously, there had been more on her mind than exploring the under-passages of the building. She didn't actually know where the kitchens were, and her attempts to follow the servants bearing empty platters found her at a series of dumbwaiters.

Her demeanour must have shown a hint of her internal dilemma as a passing servant took pity on her. "Are you looking for something?"

"Umm… Yes actually. The kitchens. I need to make a tea." Her old social anxiousness hadn't much been helped by spending the majority of her time alone.

Thankfully the girl's smile was kind. "Well you've gone the wrong way. I did enough times my first week here. I can show you the way if you like?" Ruby nodded. "Great. I'm Elisa by the way."

"Oh… I'm… Neon," Ruby lamented her lack of preparation and was forced to conjure up a random student from the tournament. To compensate she thrust out her hand only to find both of Elisa's full.

Elisa grinned. "I take it it's your first time at one of these?"

"Is it that obvious?" It technically wasn't, but it was the first time she'd seen behind the scenes so to speak. The balls weren't the leisurely affair that she'd always thought them to be. Playing the role of a new servant would cover any of her mistakes.

"A little bit. We better get moving, my manager was giving me evils." Elisa directed Ruby's attention to a man's back before sticking her tongue out at him. Ruby couldn't help but laugh, and Elisa only just managed to stop herself as well.

"Come on." Elisa hurried the pair of them away as her manager turned towards the disturbance. "Normally he's great, but the last few weeks he's been driving us like slaves."

"Really?"

"Well… no. It's just felt like that at times. He's under a lot of pressure from his manager and so on because Lady Winter wanted this to be perfect. So far it is. There's been rumours that there are going to be big bonuses at the end of it." Elisa realised she wasn't speaking to a member of the household staff. "Sorry, I didn't mean to rub that in your face."

"No worries." The pride in what they'd accomplished was evident in Elisa's voice. "You deserve it. I've never seen anything like this before."

Elisa backed through a side door and started down a winding set of stone steps that heralded the estate's more militaristic origins. "You certainly could have picked a better ball to start on. I don't mean to brag, but after witnessing House Schnee's everyone else's is going to be a disappointment."

"Oh I've no doubt of that. It's just incredible. Actually I didn't see Lady Weiss or Lady Winter in the hall. I thought they'd be there." It felt so strange to put a title in front of their names.

"Hoping to catch a glimpse of them I suppose?"

"Something like that." That was one way to put it.

"You won't be disappointed. I can guarantee they will put everyone else in the hall to shame. I had a sneak peek at their gowns," Elisa whispered conspiratorially.

It was strange for Ruby. There was absolutely no hint of trepidation or fear in Elisa's words. She seemed happy and honoured to serve the Schnees, and obviously felt comfortable enough to sneak into their rooms. Though Ruby would never have expected Weiss to mistreat those who served her, was everyone's memory so short? Had they all forgotten what Weiss had done a few days after her father's funeral?

Almost everyone dining would have lost friends and maybe even family in that war, and yet, they were laughing while they drank. She just didn't get it; barely a day went by when she didn't recall the horror. She couldn't help but think she was the weird one for not moving on. The world evidently had.

"You'll have to wait though," Elisa continued. Ruby was glad that she following Elisa down the stairs; there was no way she wouldn't have noticed her expression. "They're currently dining privately with a few choice guests. They'll be in the hall later. Just try not to stare too much."

A wave of heat and moisture poured over Ruby the moment she entered the kitchens. If the servants above had been working with smooth efficiency the kitchens seemed frantic with movement. There were flashes of fire from frying pans, great columns of steam that blossomed against the ceiling, the clatter of knives, shouts of sous chefs, and scores of people moving back and forth.

It was funny, when she'd attended as a guest she'd never really given much thought to what went on behind the scenes. Her food had always appeared on her plate as if by magic a few moments after she'd sat down. Actually seeing the behind the scenes of what made it all possible was eye-opening.

"Sorry, I'm going to have to leave you here." Elisa leant into her ear to make herself heard over the noise. "There should be boiling water and china over by that far wall. Can you find your way back up?"

"I think so. Thanks for everything."

"No problem. Maybe we can catch up later when things die down." Elisa waved as best as she was able with her arms full and promptly threaded her way through the melee.

Ruby had a much harder time of it. Even though she tried to stick to the less populated aisles between the gleaming metallic counters there were still hordes of angry mutters directed at her. She could feel the foundation on her forehead struggling to contain her perspiration. It was almost like being back in the rainforest.

With some more help she was able to find the sets of engraved china in a cupboard, and carefully watched the assortment of leaves as she poured water over them. She'd never actually made tea in a teapot without bags, but by the time she was finished she was satisfied with the result.

Loading the teapot, strainer, milk, and sugar onto a tray she started to fight her way back out the room. It was only as she neared the door that she noticed someone watching her. One of the head servants, one who'd been present when she'd stayed here, was stroking his chin pensively as if trying to recall an elusive fragment from his memory. Ruby ducked her head down and hurried from the room. Stupidly she hadn't thought about how some of the staff might recognise the girl that Weiss had openly kissed in front of them. She was lucky that Elisa appeared to have joined recently, and her appearance had changed a fair bit over the last two years.

After delivering the tea to Lady von Berg ̶ ̶ and receiving absolutely no thanks ̶ ̶ Ruby retreated from the hall and moved down one of the side passages. It was simply too risky for her to remain where someone might see her. Though her servant's dress rendered her all but invisible to the nobles, it would only take one roaming eye settling on her before her secret was revealed. Now that she was here she couldn't believe she'd thought sneaking into the ball had been good idea; but at the same time she just couldn't walk away. Not without seeing Weiss first.

* * *

 

She let an hour tick by on the clock in the darkened room before venturing out again. The clatter of cutlery was almost absent, instead replaced by louder music. The servants she saw were no longer bearing plates, but instead light refreshments and slender glasses of wine.

Trying her best to look occupied Ruby poked her head into the hall. The majority of the revellers had moved away from the tables towards the dance floor at the other end. There was a dryness in Ruby's throat as she watched couples twirl, the colourful skirts flaring out, the intricate footwork beneath them. She missed dancing. She'd been far too self-conscious to enjoy it before, but in these balls she'd come to appreciate just how beautiful a well-suited couple could be when in motion.

Even in this sea of people it only took Ruby a single glance to know that Weiss had yet to arrive. To her, Weiss was a black hole, even when they'd been living together, Weiss had just managed to divert her attention away from whatever she'd been doing. If Weiss was in the hall Ruby would have felt it.

She was just about to turn on her heel when she caught sight of Elisa standing with some of the other servants at the side of the room. When Elisa was sure Ruby was watching she quickly waved her over.

Ruby considered whether to approach her for a moment. It was risky, but with the nobles on their feet no one would notice mere servants when there were much more important people to hold their attention. If she were in the hall she could watch Weiss enter, sate her desire, and then slip out.

"Hey," Ruby spoke out of the side of her mouth as she copied Elisa's pose. Feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped in front of her, and a smile that could have been from a magazine. The last part was probably beyond her to replicate, but she did her best.

"Hi. How did you find your first dinner service?"

"Umm… ok."

"It gets easier. I don't think you told me, just who that tea was for?"

"Lady von Berg." Out of the corner of her eye Ruby caught Elisa almost say something before swallowing it back down. She could guess what it was. Even after interacting with Flore in only a brief exchange she'd captured the measure of her. "Yeah."

Ruby's reply was permission for Elisa to speak. "I've heard an awful lot of stories about just how picky she is. No doubt she kept you running back and forth to the kitchens all evening."

"Something like that."

"You poor dear. I'll buy you a drink later. At least she's left you alone now though. We shouldn't have much more to do than stand here and look pretty. Tell me, who do think is wearing the best outfit?"

Ruby scanned the assorted guests. Though she certainly wouldn't count knowledge about fashion among her strong suits, she could still decide on what she liked. Looking around she saw a lot of people she knew of, and some whom she'd spoken to before.

Blossom had put on a little bit of weight, but the red dress suited her. Judging by the cluster around her she was still a gossip, and gossip was just as vital a currency as always. Amethystine had braved a canary yellow gown which bared most of her back. Judging by the man who was hanging on her every word, her choice of attire had worked.

For a moment she caught the sight of Lobelia through the twisting couples. She'd gone for a deep blue gown that accentuated, rather than hid, the bump at her belly. Her husband stood at her shoulder. There was more grey at his temples than when she'd last seen him, but even from this distance Ruby could sense that he'd lost none of the danger he exuded. She was glad that the pair of them were at the far end of the hall; neither would have overlooked her like the rest did.

Ruby felt her smile become more natural at the sight of Lobelia's glowing cheeks. She'd entirely disdained alcohol, but still seemed to be brimming with life. In her time attending the balls Ruby had heard a significant number of rumours surround the Waches. After so many years of marriage without a child ̶ ̶ and two suspected miscarriages ̶ ̶ most were prepared for the day when they died without an heir. Lobelia had always been kind to her; to see her so happy lifted her heart. The answer to Elisa's question became easy.

"Lo… I mean Lady Wache."

Elisa eyed her curiously after her near-slip. "Well that's a choice I wouldn't necessarily have made, though I suppose it's not a bad call. It is pretty hard to find an outfit that works this late on. You've actually got a good eye. Do you know her at all?"

"No. I mean, Lady von Berg invited her to tea one evening, though that's the only time I met her." The lie was quickly concocted, but hopefully plausible.

Finding out whether or not Elisa believed her was curtailed as almost subconscious ripple passed through everyone in the room. Their attention turned towards the doorway. Ruby's heart stopped. It skipped a beat, and then another, and another.

Weiss stood under the carved arch and the other half of Ruby slotted into place. It would have been a gross injustice to call Weiss beautiful; she was so much more than that. She transcended words. Transcended thoughts or justifications. All Ruby knew was that even in a room with over a thousand people, no one else existed.

Weiss was the totality of her senses. After countless dreams of longing, of pining after pictures, Weiss stood before her once more.

She could have been dressed in anything and still shown up everyone else, but of course Weiss hadn't slacked. Not someone as fashion conscious as her. Not that she followed the trends of fashion; these days she set them.

In comparison to the elaborate gowns all around, her own was almost plain. White as the purest snow and cut to the lines of her figure. There were no decorative frills, no bundles of lace, no colour apart from in the tiara set in her matching hair. Weiss was the picture of eloquent simplicity and grace. Ruby had imagined her seeing Weiss again hundreds of times, but the reality trumped them all. Weiss was… Weiss. That was the only explanation that she could muster.

Elisa elbowed her in the ribs. "I told you not to stare," she said with a grin.

With a painful thump Ruby's heart started working again; racing to make up for lost time. She'd seen Weiss. She was in front of her. It was meant to have made cured her heartache. It had only made it a million times worse. Ruby only just managed to stop herself pushing through the crowd, bursting to the front, and then… she had no idea just what she would have done.

Weiss started forward, down the corridor that had formed of its own accord. As she came level with them, Lords and Ladies paid their respect. If Ruby had ever doubted who ruled Atlas now, she received confirmation here. The Lords bowed almost ninety degrees and the Ladies dropped low, nodding their own heads in the midst of a curtsey. Surrounded by that, and with a near-crown on her head, Weiss appeared regal.

Ruby only just managed to follow Elisa's lead and curtsey herself. It was a relief that Weiss did not deviate from looking straight ahead. Her disguise would have fallen to pieces in an instant.

It was only then that Ruby became aware that Winter was at Weiss' side. There was no need to say that Winter appeared as stunning as always. But Ruby's senses had been completely overwhelmed already. She had no eyes for anyone apart from Weiss.

It was impossible to tell just what the emotion was that coursed along her veins. It was simply too powerful to categorise. Her legs wavered and Elisa noticed.

"Are you ok?" Elisa grasped her elbow with a steadying grip.

"I'm just… a little light-headed." Ruby flared her Aura. It didn't really help with the turmoil inside of her, but the effort at least concentrated her thoughts.

Elisa gave a jolt as her hand was repulsed by a few millimetres. Her eyes went wide. "Are you?"

"No." There was no need to ask her to clarify her question. "My parents were." Most people had at least some amount of Aura, but the difference between a civilian flaring it and a trained hunter was as great as the hall they were in. "I'm just not feeling too well." With the aid of her Aura she could at least begin to think again.

"I think I can guess why." Elisa went back to watching the Schnees. "They're a different breed those two. Quite literally. I guess you want to change your opinion over who has the best dress. I think you were drooling."

If Ruby was aware of just what had happened to her body in the last minute she would have refuted the statement, as it was she probably had to take Elisa's word for it. Her drooling after Weiss was likely an understatement.

"Don't worry. I probably would be in your position. The only reason I don't have a nosebleed is that I see them around occasionally. Still… with them dressed like that..."

Ruby put her hands to her nose. Thankfully her fingers came away clean. Elisa noticed and laughed softly. With the entrance of the de facto ruler of the country over, the nobles had gone back to mingling. They all seemed to be attempting to manoeuvre themselves closer to their hosts.

"Has… Has Weiss been seeing anyone?" As much as it might hurt, she would have preferred to know. Surprisingly for someone so much in the public eye information about her private life was non-existent.

Elisa's brow furrowed and it was only then that Ruby realised she'd referred to Councillor and Lady Schnee with complete familiarity. Her makeup was not enough to hide the crimson that spread across her cheeks.

"Who… who are you?" Elisa's voice dropped as she shuffled a step sideways.

Ruby had to think quickly. All Elisa would have to do is scream to bring attention to the pair of them. She didn't know how many of the attendees were any good in a fight, but just Erashan and Weiss together would likely test her to the limits of her abilities. She could run, no one would be able to catch her, but with Atlas on high alert getting out of the country would be close to impossible. She decided to go with the truth.

"Don't freak out." It occurred to her then that phrase was a sure-fire way to make someone do exactly that. "I went to Beacon with Weiss. I know her."

"You're… Ruby?" It was half an exclamation, half a question. Even out of the corner of her eye Ruby could see the girl had gone pale, her eyes staring straight ahead.

She hesitated a moment. "Yeah."

Elisa slid sideways again. "You're wanted."

"No! I mean… yes, but it's not like that. I didn't do anything. We just had an argument and I left." Elisa still didn't appear to be convinced. Ruby never liked doing this, it felt disrespectful, but she had to make a point. "I swear on my mum's grave that I'm not here to cause any trouble."

She still looked ready to scream, but at least she'd stopped sliding away. "Then why are you here?"

"I… honestly I just wanted to see her again." Saying it like that Ruby knew how stupid she sounded. What she hadn't expected was the effect her words would have on her audience. Elisa's face melted as she turned to look at Ruby.

"That's so romantic," she gushed.

"I suppose. Look you can't say anything."

"I don't know. I need this job."

"Please."

Ruby's puppy dog eyes had not lost their potency over the years. Elisa looked away. "Fine I won't, but you can't either. You never told me who you were. But…" She hesitated. "Look I know it's not my place. At least talk to her."

It was long past the time that Ruby should have left the hall. She'd had her sight of Weiss. Her looking like that was everything she'd dreamed it could have been, but far from alleviating her longing it had just made it a thousand times worse.

"It's complicated."

Elisa didn't speak for almost a minute. When she did it was in a soft voice that Ruby wished she hadn't heard. "I heard her crying once. So have others."

The knowledge hurt her. Despite everything Weiss had done, Ruby had never wished ill on her. And it wasn't like Weiss had been alone in crying herself to sleep. Ruby didn't answer, she couldn't. So instead she watched Weiss as she wound her way through the crowd.

In two years she'd lost absolutely none of her grace; if it were possible it had increased. Weiss glided across the floor while everyone else slogged through mud. Her laugh was easy to isolate, Ruby knew her well enough to know it was her polite, fake one, but it still clawed at her soul. She longed to make Weiss laugh again, even if it was with her at the butt of a joke.

Ruby drank in Weiss' appearance. It was a balm on a wound that she'd borne for the past two years. No matter what she might have pretended to herself, she'd never stopped loving Weiss.

In the midst of a conversation Weiss' gaze roamed through the hall. It swept along the servants lined up along the walls. Her and Ruby's eyes locked. They both froze. There was no comical double take. Weiss' eyes didn't move on only to jump back. Even through a crowd the instant that Weiss saw her she knew. The only thing she didn't do is believe.

Ruby couldn't move either. Weiss' gaze held her as surely as manacles. How many times had she looked into those cerulean eyes? As an unwilling partner, as a teammate, and then as more. She'd locked with them on that first day at Beacon, just before her first kiss, in Vale when she'd never felt lower. There was such strength there, such resolve, and now she knew that they hid so, so much. It might have been said that the eyes were the portals to the soul, but not for Weiss.

A man moving between them broke the spell. Without a word to Elisa Ruby moved off, quickly threading her way between the revellers. Her mind was a cloud of confused thoughts. Part of her wanted to throw herself in Weiss' arms, another wanted to attack her, and part just wanted to flee. It was the latter part that had taken control.

Near the entrance she collided with someone. She barely felt or heard their displeasure. There wasn't room inside of her. The steps to the driveway were crowded with valets and security, she couldn't face them. She pushed her way through a side door.

Her legs carried her without conscious thought. Quicker and quicker they went, her heels echoing off the spotless walls. Another set competed with them. She was running by the time she reached the stairs. She took them two at a time. Up and up she went, away from everything.

It was only at the top of the stairs that she slowed. Her heels ceased to make noise as they trod in thick cream carpet. She recognised this corridor. The paintings on the walls, the tapestries, the vases on their plinths, the door to the room that Weiss had grown up in. It could have been a pure coincidence that her legs had carried her here, she knew it wasn't.

As she came to rest next the door she sensed more than heard someone else reach the top of the stairs.

"Ruby…" Weiss sounded as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

Very slowly Ruby turned to face her. If possible she was even more beautiful up close. From across the hall she hadn't been able to see her curling eyelashes, the way her makeup emphasised her scar. She didn't know if the rouge on her cheeks was intentional or as a result of their impromptu chase across the mansion while wearing ball gowns, but whatever the reason it worked for her.

A greying head appeared behind Weiss. Erashan took one look at just who was in the corridor before retreating. He clearly had no desire to be part of what might happen. In all honesty Ruby didn't know if she wanted any either. In her entire life she'd never been this conflicted before. Her very soul was being pulled apart.

Weiss had mastered any of her internal strife. She stretched herself to her full height and strode forwards. Dimly Ruby became aware that, though she'd continued to grow, Weiss hadn't. Even with the disparity between their heels she still had more than a couple of inches on her.

Not that the difference between their heights made Weiss any less intimidating. Her brow had darkened with rage. "You abandoned me! When you promised that you never would." Weiss let out the anguish that had been festering in her gut for years.

"You lied to me!" Ruby blurted, stunned that Weiss was turning this back around on her.

"Only to protect you!"

"To protect me? From what? You?" They were both shouting now.

"To protect you from the things that you are simply unwilling to see! You don't understand the world."

"Where do you think I've been for the past two years? I  _understand_ the world perfectly. What I don't get are the people like  _you_  who are in charge of it!"

"You have no idea what's it's like to be in my position!"

"That's true enough. I've never ordered an airstrike on someone's house."

"It was us or them. I chose them."

"You didn't have to make that choice! All those times when you complained about your father. All the things you were going to do better."

"Don't you dare bring him into this!"

"How's that going by the way? You haven't even freed the Faunus."

"How are you this stupid? You have no idea what would happen without them. The world would grind to a halt. The Grimm would win."

"The Weiss I knew would have found a way."

"There isn't one. I was naïve. Don't you think I've tried?"

"I wouldn't know. In case you haven't realised I've been on the run. Thanks for that by the way."

The two of them had stalked closer until they were shouting at each other only an arm's length apart.

"That's the least you deserved after leaving me."

"Fuck you! Because of you I haven't seen Yang in two years. Just because you can't love anyone doesn't mean I don't."

Ruby's head snapped sideways and a crack filled the air. In her anger she'd lost control of her Aura and pain flared through the red mark blossoming on her cheek. She reared back up and returned the blow. Her activities on the fringes of civilization meant that she was packing a lot more muscle than Weiss was. Even though she'd brought her Aura up Ruby's slap was enough to send her spinning against the wall.

Short of putting her down Weiss steadied herself and rose, her face a grimace and her fingers twitching. The temperature in the corridor dropped. Their eyes bored into each other; pure unfiltered rage transmitted between them. Ruby's knuckles popped. They remained on the cusp of violence for an age. They were close enough to feel the moisture from each other's seething breaths.

They both moved at the exact same instant. Their lips met in the middle. Ruby used her advantage in weight to push Weiss until her back slammed into a wall. With her pinioned Ruby concentrated on relearning the lips she'd once known so well. There was nothing tender about their kiss. It was anger-laden, possessive, and neither of them cared.

Ruby forced her way inside Weiss' mouth. Wine, rich food and the taste that was unmistakably Weiss almost caused her knees to buckle. After reliving moments like these time and time again the reality was pure ambrosia.

Weiss' slender hands ran up and down her body fondling at the flesh beneath her servant's dress. Weiss attempted to retake the initiative, to retake control. She thrust with her tongue, tried to spin them both around. Ruby fought her, keeping her pinned up against the wall. In their tussle they knocked into a plinth. The wobbles of a priceless antique didn't concern them.

Ruby could barely think. She only sated the pure unadulterated need that had steadily built since the day they'd parted. It erupted from her. She acted on base animal instincts. She wanted Weiss more than anything else in the world, and she took it.

Weiss pushed herself away from the wall. With their mouths still locked the pair of them tottered in the middle of the hallway. It wasn't easy for Ruby to keep her balance, especially due to how she had to lean down.

Weiss tried to make good use of her advantage. Still intent on regaining the initiative she continued to take one step after another, and, off-balance as she was, Ruby had no choice but to cede the ground. Not that it was all on Weiss' terms, Ruby used the moment that Weiss came up for air to spin her around again and thrust her back into the wood of the door.

Weiss ceased her frantic rediscovery of Ruby's body long enough to scrabble at the handle. As soon as the latch came undone their combined body weight forced the door open. They stumbled through it, almost falling as Ruby's shoes got caught on Weiss' long dress. With an errant leg she kicked the door closed.

The lights were off, but the large windows were bared and the bedroom of Weiss' childhood was bathed in the soft luminesce of the shattered moon. Much like their relationship was and had been. Ruby plucked the symbol of their strife, the shimmering tiara, the crown, from the locks of alabaster hair and tossed it aside.

Weiss' hands were busy on back of Ruby's dress and she reciprocated. It was a grossly unfair game. Weiss had but a row of clasps to undo, and her nimble fingers made quick work of them, even when her mind was otherwise occupied. She put her palm to Ruby's chest, broke their kiss, dragged Ruby's arms out of the straps, and then pushed the dress down revealing a matching set of underwear.

Weiss' hands seared Ruby's nerves as they explored the now bare skin that had been sheltered moments before. As she trembled from the overload of sensation, Weiss shoved her way into Ruby's mouth. In her state, with the roughness of Weiss' tongue consuming every fibre in her brain, the intricacies of undoing a formal gown were lost on her.

As her fingers failed to undo even a single knot in the corset she gave guttural growl of frustration. Reaching up she grasped the collar of Weiss' dress in both hands and heaved. The rending of silk and satin permeated through the room. It tore all the way to waist revealing the small mounds of pale flesh it had concealed. Weiss shivered as Ruby raked her fingernails across them.

With nothing holding it up, the gown that had stunned the nobles of Atlas slipped to floor and pooled around their feet. After trying and failing to kick it away once Ruby set her hands to Weiss' waist and bodily lifted her off the floor. Weiss had never weighed much, but Ruby could have swung her around if she'd wanted to. She settled for throwing her to the mattress. Weiss bounced and squealed.

Seeing her lying there. Her hair in disarray. A shaft of moonlight playing across her breasts as they heaved up and down. The soft curves of her hips and the promise of what was hidden beneath the frills of the ivory panties, Ruby's mind was consumed by a single urge. She clambered onto the bed after the love of her life.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Ruby's return to consciousness was heralded by the warmth of the first rays of the sun. Her body ached and her limbs were sore. Her eyes fluttered open. Snow white hair greeted them. Weiss' head was pillowed on her breast. A slender arm was thrown across her stomach, and an impossibly soft thigh rested atop both of her own. Weiss breathed steadily in and out, and the moist air tickled her salt-encrusted skin.

Even with the aches, seeing Weiss clinging onto her made it the perfect way to wake up. It was better than perfect though; even in sleep, Weiss' mouth was curled into a blissful smile. Ruby knew the same was on her face at well.

She didn't dare move. She couldn't fathom disturbing the picturesque scene in front of her. Her imagination had toyed with the idea of the morning after so many times before. In some they'd woken up in a cheap hotel meant to stop Weiss from being recognised; the bed had been hard, the sheets scratchy, but neither of them had cared. In others she'd believed only liquid courage would have persuaded them to take the next step, and the previous night would have been a blur.

It wasn't. At least not in that way. Although the rush of chemicals that had surged into her bloodstream had clouded her mind, she could recall almost every euphoric moment. Every touch, every kiss, every tender embrace. Ruby played them all in her mind, reliving them and cataloguing the memories forever. Whatever happened, she'd always have last night.

It had gone so much better than she'd ever imagined or hoped for. There had always been a nagging worry of just what would happen her first time. That the things she'd watched and read about simply wouldn't have any effect, and Weiss would just tell her not to bother and go to sleep. The possibility of a scenario like that occurring had almost been enough to make her want to put the compromising situation off indefinitely.

As was often the case, the reality had proved to be so much better than her fears. Maybe reality wasn't exactly like the videos, but a lot of the techniques she used on herself worked equally well on another; when they didn't Weiss had proved a more than willing tutor. Just where Weiss had learned to use her tongue like that she really didn't want to know. It couldn't have been from solo-exploration but, after a first-hand demonstration that had caused her toes to seize up and a couple of pointers, she'd almost returned the favour.

It would take a lot more practice and unlike homework this wasn't something she'd put off until the last minute. In this case sooner was most definitely better. But not right at this moment, not when Weiss was this perfect.

With great tenderness, Ruby lifted a lock of hair that had been brushing against Weiss' eyelid and tucked it behind her ear. Weiss gave a tiny moan and nuzzled into her, shifting her thigh by a few millimetres.

She seemed cold. There was a certain chill in the air and the sun had barely risen. In the night their quilt had fallen down to their waists, baring both of their torsos. If not for how intimately Weiss clung to her they both probably would have been shivering. As it was, inch by inch, Ruby drew the quilt up over them. But not all the way, she wanted to keep on watching Weiss sleep.

When they'd first started sharing a bed it had quickly become a favourite pastime of hers. Asleep Weiss showed a side of herself that she never would have while conscious. It was hard to define exactly what it was. It might have been peace. Even at Beacon, Weiss had been under so much more pressure than most and it had shown. In sleep she dropped the poise and bearing of a noble that had been drilled into her. Unconscious, she looked just like anyone else.

Ruby grinned. That wasn't fair. Weiss would never look just like anyone else. It was simply impossible. Her jawline, her defined cheekbones, her lips, and even her scar added to a sum that didn't disappear just because she was dreaming.

And there was a certain amount of vulnerability in her expression. Everyone was vulnerable while sleeping, but Weiss more than most. It may have been a lifetime ago, but Ruby had spent enough time in bed next to her to hear the whimpers, to see the twitches of her lips as her dreams turned into nightmares. Weiss seldom slept peacefully, but this morning was one of those rare occasions.

As the sun slowly rose, Ruby just basked in her current situation. She chose to live in the present. There was no use worrying about what would happen, or fretting about what had. That would undoubtedly come, but it didn't have to be just yet. For now she chose to savour every one of Weiss' breaths, every subtle shift of Weiss' body. Ruby drank in every moment with the face that had been in her mind for so long.

If possible, she would have stayed that way forever, but as she'd learned in the past, nothing lasts forever. Before too long Weiss lifted her head and half-opened her eyes.

"It wasn't a dream," she said her mind still unfocused.

"No," Ruby agreed.

"Good." Weiss closed her eyes again and put her head back down, attempting to burrow into her makeshift pillows.

Ruby stifled a laugh caused both by the brief conversation and the locks of hair that were caressing her skin. "Weiss, it's time to wake up."

"No."

As much as Ruby would have liked to stay in bed all day, she hadn't eaten anything more than a few cereal bars since midday yesterday. Well cereal bars and…

"Yes," Ruby ran her fingers over the curve of Weiss' waist.

Weiss trembled. "No."

Ruby's traced her way down to the small of Weiss' back. The scar where she'd been shot was small, barely a roughening the size of a coin on the otherwise perfect canvas. She paused there for a moment before moving on. Another reminder of that lifetime.

"Come on." She could tell that Weiss was awake, only reluctant to move from her position of comfort.

Weiss opened her eyes fully this time. They were just as striking as they'd always been. Cerulean portals that contained such a depth of intensity. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." It was the truth. The lack of Weiss had been a great chasm in her life.

Weiss lifted her head up and moved towards Ruby's mouth. Their kiss was deep, but it wasn't rushed as a result of passion and need. Instead it was slow, gentle, each taking as much time as they needed to treasure the moment.

After they were done, Weiss returned her head to Ruby's breasts, her cheeks flushed. Neither of them spoke for a time. From that tender exchange they both recognised the feelings they'd once harboured for each other were still there, maybe buried under a mountain of circumstance, but there nonetheless.

"We should probably get breakfast," Ruby said after a time.

"I don't want to get up."

"You could order some right? We wouldn't have to." With the amount of servants she'd seen yesterday surely breakfast in bed wasn't too much to ask for.

"I probably could, but," Weiss' voice became huskier, "I can think," Ruby tensed as fingertips brushed the inside of her thigh, "of something else," the fingers slid higher, "I'd much rather be doing," they stopped on the brink. "Can't you?"

Ruby only just managed to nod before euphoria swept away all her other thoughts. Breakfast didn't seem to be that important after all.

Ruby could barely see her toes as she stepped from the shower. It very well might have been the longest shower of her life judging by the steam, but she hadn't been all that focussed on timekeeping. It turned out showers were a lot more fun when shared with another person.

She'd never encountered this side of Weiss before. She even doubted it existed. Normally Weiss was proper almost to a fault, but this morning she'd been entirely insatiable. It was only Ruby's grip on the counter that stopped her shaking legs from collapsing under her. In the past couple of hours she'd ridden one wave of bliss after another.

Weiss pressed herself up against Ruby's back, wrapping her arms around her and resting her head on her shoulder. "It's a good thing I had the boilers replaced."

"Yeah." It was odd just how quickly she'd become accustomed to being naked around another person. She'd never been an exhibitionist in any sense of the word. At Beacon she'd even disliked changing in the locker rooms. Yet here she was perfectly at ease while a hand probed the firmness of her stomach.

It answered with a rumble. Weiss stopped. "Ahh… I suppose we probably should get breakfast. Though I'd guess it would be more brunch now." Weiss pecked Ruby on the cheek before pulling away.

Draped in a pair of luxurious, snow-white robes, they left the bathroom. For the first time that morning Ruby had a proper look around the room. Compared to the state it had no doubt been kept in for years it was a mess. There was no way under normal circumstances that Weiss would have been comfortable with this level of untidiness. At Beacon, it would have been more than sufficient for a lecture.

Not that Weiss was an innocent party today. She was just as much a culprit as Ruby was. Though, as she took in the crumpled heap that had once been a magnificent gown, maybe not quite as big a culprit.

Weiss noticed her looking. "It doesn't matter. It would have just hung in a wardrobe for years anyway. And I was just as eager to get out of it." She gave a slight smile as she crossed to her vanity. "I'm not sure what you want to wear. I was much kinder to your dress than you were to mine, but there'll probably be something you can wear in there," she gestured at the door that led to the walk-in wardrobe.

Ruby eyed her. This had been Weiss' childhood room, but even if she still used it there would be a problem. "I'm not sure that they'll fit."

Weiss paused in the act of turning her hairdryer on. "And why is that?" There was a testiness in her voice.

"Umm… you know. You're ̶ ̶ "

Weiss stalked closer. "Say it. I dare you."

Her height had always been a topic that was better left unmentioned, but Ruby very much doubted that her anger was genuine this time. "Short." Her attempted retreat was stopped by a glyph as Weiss closed in on her.

"I think you'll find that I am perfectly sized."

Ruby wouldn't argue with that. It was hard to imagine Weiss being any other way. She might have stunned the senses last night when she'd been dressed up, but this morning, bereft of makeup, she was just as beautiful. Ruby had always preferred Weiss with her hair down, mainly because it was a privilege that very few got to witness. Standing there with her hands balled at her side she looked adorable, but nothing would change the fact that, without heels, she would have to look up at almost everyone.

"That's true, but do you want to argue about who's taller again?" She tried to suppress a grin as she looked down. At Beacon Weiss had always been insistent that she wasn't the shortest on the team, despite how she refused to be measured without her heels on.

"No thank you, I did notice. Please tell me you're done growing now?"

"Maybe." She wasn't too sure. Her mum had apparently been a little shorter than she was now, but her dad was a lot taller. There was no guarantee she would stay this height.

"It's becoming problematic." Weiss pushed her lightly into the glyph, rising on her tiptoes to reach Ruby's lips. It might have been a problem, but it was a problem that they'd both rather have.

Ruby ended up wearing her dress from the previous night. It was probably a little formal, but it was the only real choice, a situation that Weiss promised to remedy with a shopping trip shortly. Ruby didn't ask what had happened to her old clothes that had been left here.

As usual, with almost no effort Weiss managed to make herself resplendent before she led the way from the bedroom. If the pair of them had made a mess in the hallway the staff had cleaned it up. Ruby's ears burned at what they might have overheard. She hadn't been quiet.

If the first servant they encountered had any thought on that matter they kept it to themselves, instead moving to the side of the corridor and curtseying low.

Weiss addressed her. "We'll take brunch in the Crescent Room."

"Yes my Lady. Will you require anything else?"

"No, that is all."

With another curtsey, the servant abandoned her dusting of the dust-free corridor and hurried off.

"We should probably take the scenic route to give them a bit of time."

Ruby nodded slowly. After spending all night and morning with Weiss it was jarring to see this side of her. The side who had scores of servants at her beck and call, and would order them about to arrange something as simple as a few slices of toast.

She didn't talk much as they walked through the external corridors looking out at the grounds. There had been fresh snowfall last night and it had only just begun melting away. Despite that, figures were toiling over the miles of flowerbeds and hedges, making sure that they remained absolutely perfect.

When they arrived the table of the Crescent Room wasn't deserted.

"Good morning Weiss. Ruby," Winter's words entirely lacked any resemblance to their meaning. Her mouth was a narrow line as she regarded Ruby.

"Winter," Weiss' tone had a hint of warning in it.

"It's good to see you again after so long." This time she smiled, but Ruby couldn't tell if it was genuine. Too much time had passed since the ability to read people had mattered to her. "Please take a seat." Winter gestured at the seat opposite her own, leaving the head of the table free. "You were missed yesterday." Winter addressed her sister.

"I had more pressing things on my mind. I'm sure you managed in my absence."

"Naturally, but disappearing after only a few minutes doesn't look good Weiss. I would rather not have had to constantly address just where you were."

"And what did you say?"

"That a pressing issue required your immediate attention. I'll leave it up to you to decide just what that issue was." Winter wasn't exactly being hostile, but she left no room to misinterpret just what she actually thought of Weiss disappearing in the middle of the ball.

"Thank you. Disregarding my absence, I take it the ball was a success?"

"Of course. It will be the only topic of conversation for some time. Certainly those that missed out will be transformed into social pariahs, and no one is going to be talking about Vacuo anymore."

"What's that about Vacuo?" Ruby spoke up.

"Just the Council and King Badr want compensation for the increase in Grimm activity. They're attempting to stonewall a trade agreement until we give it to them. It won't happen." Weiss patted Ruby's hand on the table, "But it's nothing for you to worry about."

Ruby frowned slightly. She was sure that Weiss hadn't meant to be condescending, but that was exactly how she had sounded. The increase in Grimm activity had affected her as well. As the Grimm were forced from Vale, Vacuo was their only other destination. It was no wonder that Vacuo wanted help to deal with them.

"Is that where you've been Ruby?" Winter asked. Weiss perked up as well. They hadn't managed to get onto that particular topic. They'd been rather distracted after all.

She shrugged. "Some of the time. I've been all over."

"Really?"

"Well not, Mistral." Before she'd been able to get a concrete false identity she hadn't wanted to risk air travel again. "But I mainly stayed in the border areas."

"Doing what?"

Ruby opened her mouth before closing it. She didn't want to tell Winter what she'd been doing, or just who she thought Ozpin really was. She wasn't even sure if Weiss wouldn't think she was insane. Trying to convince anyone that the person they knew was, in fact, thousands of years old would be a stretch. Especially when she only had circumstantial evidence and a gut feeling to back it up.

A servant poking his head through the door gave her a reprieve. She might have had expected a few slices of toast, but breakfast was clearly an entirely different affair in the Schnee household. The table was set with spotless plates and silver cutlery as half a dozen servants filed into the room all bearing platters filled with absolutely anything someone might have the desire to eat at this time of day.

Elisa was among them. "Hey," Ruby said as Elisa leant over her shoulder. Apart from a quick smile she ignored her, retreating to the side of the room to stand with the others before being dismissed.

Weiss hadn't missed the interaction. "Do you know her?"

"She helped me yesterday."

"Really," Winter stared after her. "I for one was very interested in how you came to be at the ball."

"No. Not like that," Ruby said quickly. Winter's tone was dangerous. "We only met after I got here. She just thought I was Lady von Berg's servant and showed me the way to the kitchens."

"Hmm…" Winter neatly sliced a pear into pieces. "So pray tell, how did you manage to get onto the estate?"

"I jumped the fence."

"You… jumped… the fence." When Winter said it like that it was no wonder she was sceptical.

"Umm… yeah. You should probably get a higher one."

"No doubt. Weiss, tell me, how high is that fence?"

"Fourteen feet on average. In some places it's a little lower with the snow drifts. It would never keep a hunter out though."

"No," Winter agreed, "That's what our security detail is for. Do you wish to have a word with them or should I?"

"I'll do it."

Ruby played with her croissant. She didn't like the idea that someone could be punished because of her actions, but she didn't see a way to prevent it. No matter what spin she tried to put on it she had managed to sneak onto the estate. Someone had to be culpable.

"I believe you were just about to tell us what you'd been doing with yourself." Winter raised the subject again, and this time Ruby had an answer. It was a simple one, but that made it no less true.

"Just you know… helping people." Weiss smiled at that thought, but Winter replied almost casually.

"I thought you didn't have a licence."

That fact still hurt, just as Winter no doubt knew it would. All the embarrassment and ignominy she'd suffered reared up inside of her before she quashed it. Even if the world said she couldn't be a huntress, it didn't change what she was. She managed to smile.

"Not really. But no one's going to turn down help when they need it." They didn't. The hard part was getting paid afterwards. Or even just stopping them informing on her. Though most were grateful, the idea of a rogue and unregulated hunter still scared those who had been indoctrinated against the concept.

Weiss perhaps sensed they were getting onto a difficult topic. "I think that's really great. You'll have to tell me all about it later. Do you want a pastry?"

Ruby was grateful for the change of subject, but shook her head. She'd been eating simple, and, more importantly, cheap foods for the past two years. Her body just wasn't accustomed to the richness of what was on offer here. She had no doubt her croissant was close to perfect, but the strawberry preserve was almost too sweet for her.

"No thanks. This is really great though. You know I never realised just how much work went into the behind the scenes of the balls before."

"Oh definitely, Winter's the one who organised it though. I just gave my opinion where she asked for it. Which wasn't all that often to be honest," Weiss grinned at her sister.

"We both know that I stay more abreast of fashion than you do. But yes, it was a lot of work."

As the two of them went about explaining just how much work it was Ruby was thankful she hadn't lost all of her social know-how. She'd managed to broach a subject where she didn't have to talk about herself, and instead only had to ask an occasional question. It was an interesting enough conversation and she even managed to force a few more pieces of fruit down.

Eventually though, it met its natural conclusion. They sat in silence for a few moments before Winter spoke again. "Starling called me. She tried calling you, but you were obviously  _preoccupied_." She eyed the pair of them and they both blushed. "She said it was important."

Weiss wiped her lips with a napkin and rose. "I better see what's gone wrong this time. I'll be back in a few moments."

As soon as Weiss left the room the smile on Winter's face evaporated. At any other time in her life the expression would have been enough to make Ruby want to curl up inside, but the world had forced her to change.

"Do you have a problem with me?" Her question was as blunt as it was possible to be. Since they'd entered the room, passive hostility had seeped from Winter.

Winter laced her fingers together. If she was surprised by Ruby's directness she didn't show it. "As a matter of fact I do."

"Then why don't we get it out in the open?"

"Fine. Why did bother coming back? Haven't you done enough?"

"What?"

"You hurt Weiss. You ran away. All without even having the decency to talk to her first."

"It was complicated."

"No. It wasn't. Father had just died. Weiss needed you. It's that simple. You didn't see what she was like the days after. We thought you'd been abducted. She was just waiting for the bad news, and she believed it was all her fault. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. She barely talked to anyone. And then we found out that you'd just run away like a little girl."

With Winter saying it like that the blame did seem to lie on her side, but it wasn't as simple as Winter was making it out to be. Still she hadn't been thinking straight in the days after the funeral and the revelations of who'd ordered the airstrikes.

"You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly. You're a coward. If you really wanted to break up with Weiss, fine. That's your right. But you snuck off in the middle of the day without a word. You broke Weiss' heart, and she was only beginning to recover. And now you've just reappeared and expect everything to go back to normal? I'll tell you something. Weiss may have forgiven you, she doesn't have much of choice, she loves you despite everything. But I won't."

"I don't expect everything to go back to normal."

"Then what exactly do you expect?"

"I…" Ruby hadn't spent much time thinking about the future. What was meant to be a brief glance and the chance to say a proper goodbye had turned into this; a night of passion and breakfast with the family. She hadn't planned for any of it. It had just happened. "I don't know."

"Then I think you should decide, and quickly." Winter stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Ruby stared into her empty cup as Winter left. Though they had been delivered in a brash way, Winter had raised some good points. She did need to decide just what she actually wanted from this point on. She understood Winter's anger towards her; the way she'd left had been that of a coward.

"Ruby," Weiss spoke from the door, smile broadly and completely missing Ruby's melancholy. "Guess who's here to see you?" There was the patter of tiny feet and a small form trotted into the room after her.

"Zwei!" All of Ruby's strife was immediately banished at the sight of one of her best friends. She dropped to her knees and held out her arms.

But Zwei didn't rush towards her, he didn't bark and lick her face, instead he stayed near Weiss' ankles.

"Zwei?" the excitement left her voice and she lowered her arms. He stared at her reproachfully. She deserved it. She'd left him as well. She'd tricked him just as much as she had Weiss. It had been a tough decision, but she hadn't known just what she was heading into. As it had turned out it had been a wise one. Zwei would never have been able to cope with living on the frontiers. Her only solace had been knowing Weiss would take care of him in her absence.

Weiss nudged him forward with her foot. He took a few steps and looked up at her before back to Ruby.

"I'm sorry. I missed you." It wasn't much of an apology, but it was all she could muster. He took a few more tentative steps until he was almost in reach. She held out the back of her hand towards him.

Ruby didn't move. She stayed frozen just waiting on his decision. There was nothing she could do to alter it. Zwei looked back at Weiss and she nodded. The coldness of his nose brushed her fingers. It was the critical moment. He took several long sniffs before he licked her. Just like that all was forgiven. His tail wagged and she scooped him up, laughing as he attacked her face with his tongue.

Zwei wasn't complex. She'd no doubt hurt him immensely when she'd left, but much like Weiss all he cared about was that she was back now. She hugged his wriggling form to her body. Weiss smiled as she watched.

"Starling brought him over. She thought you'd want to see each other again."

"Well tell her thanks." Ruby kissed the top of his head.

"She also dropped off some other things. She deduced that I'd want to work from home today. I'm sorry to do this, but do you mind if leave you here while I get on top of it? It won't take more than an hour."

"Weiss, it's fine. I know you're busy. Me and Zwei have a lot to catch up on anyway." He melted in her arms as she scratched him behind the ears in just the way he liked.

"Thank you. I'll see you in a bit. I'll make sure we can spend the afternoon together."

Ruby waved before giving Zwei her undivided attention. "Have you been behaving?" Zwei nodded, his tongue lolling from his mouth. "I knew you would. I missed you so much." She squeezed him tight and he lapped at her face. He'd always been there for her since the day she'd first seen him, his love was unequivocal. She set him down. "Walkies?" His barks were answer enough. "You can show me around this place."

Zwei led the way in his usual hyperactive manner, sprinting ahead of her before running back and dancing around her feet. Ruby kept to a more sedate pace looking at her surroundings. Zwei probably did know his way around the manor better than her; there were just so many corridors and rooms. It was beyond thinking that more than half of them had ever been in use at one time. They were all merely a statement of power laid down generations ago and expanded upon since.

When Zwei darted into a side room and came back with a red ball in his mouth his pleading eyes gave Ruby no choice. She carefully checked the corridor for anything breakable before giving it a light toss. The instant it left her hand Zwei leapt forward at a sprint his claws scrabbling on the polished floor and barking madly. He leapt upon the ball, almost rolled over in trying to turn before bounding back to her.

"Good boy." Ruby gave him a scratch as he relinquished his prize without a fight. They continued on their walk through the corridors playing fetch. It would have been nice for them both to get some fresh air, but though Zwei might have been comfortable for a time in the sleet she wouldn't have been. Luckily it wasn't as if they were going to run out of corridors.

With renewed practice Ruby had gotten the hang of fetch again, throwing trick shots off the walls that caused Zwei to spin around before locating where the ball had gone. As it always had, his energy seemed almost boundless as she bounced her latest shot around a corner.

"Oh," someone gave a start of surprise.

"Sorry!" Ruby called hurrying hot on Zwei's heels. She found him sitting on the floor staring up at Elisa whose arms were full of white sheets. "Oh, hi!"

"Good morning Ms Rose." There was an odd formality to her tone as she bent her knees in a half-curtsey.

"Umm…" Ruby didn't quite know how to respond or why Elisa was acting so differently.

"Can I be of service?"

"Wait… did I upset you somehow?"

Elisa took her time in answering, weighing up a decision in her mind. "No. May I speak freely?"

"Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"Ruby... You seem nice, you really do, but we come from different worlds."

"No we don't. I'm just like you." She hadn't grown up in a mansion. She'd never expected to set foot in such a place before Beacon.

"Maybe once, but not anymore." Elisa smiled sadly. "What am I wearing?"

"A dress?"

"A servant's dress. I'm a servant of Lady Schnee. That is Lady Schnee's dog and you're… in a relationship with Lady Schnee. As Neon I could talk to you. As Ruby…" She shook her head. "I can't afford to be involved with you. There's no way where that ends preferably for me."

"But…"

"Ruby, you're a huntress. You have a backup. I don't. I was ever so fortunate to be given this opportunity, and I can't afford to lose it by being caught between two people bigger than I am. I just need to keep my head down and stay out of the way. I'm sorry. I hope everything goes well for you." Without another word she hurried off.

Ruby was left standing in the hallway staring after her. She been surprised when Elisa had refused to answer her at breakfast, but she hadn't expected that. To be so resolutely rejected. The worst thing was she could understand just where she was coming from. She'd seen enough in the past to know just how vulnerable normal people were to the whims of the world. For someone like Elisa, trying to keep her head down would be the most sensible option.

Zwei picked up on her falling mood. Instead of offering her the ball once again he mewled and pressed himself up against her ankles. As much as Ruby didn't want to admit it, she wasn't normal any longer. Especially in the modern climate of fear, being a huntress isolated her from most, and that wasn't mentioning who she knew. She was on first name terms and more with some of the most powerful people in the world. She would never be  _normal_  again.

"Let's go and find Weiss." She was one of the few people who would understand. She'd never had the opportunity to be  _normal_ in the first place.

As they passed into the corridor containing Weiss' office a raised voice became audible. "Do not make me repeat myself. They've broken the law. They knew what they were doing, and they knew the price if they got caught."

Ruby paused on the brink and blocked Zwei off. A chill made its way down her spine.

"Stop." There was nothing but cold in Weiss' tone. "I don't expect to hear another word on this. I've told you what I want. See that you get it done." Weiss slammed the phone down on her desk.

Ruby stayed where she was. She could hear the heavy breathing of the person in the room, and it broke her heart knowing that person wasn't Weiss. She'd been blind. Wilfully so. She'd spent the morning in an almost trance-like state. The passion of the night, seeing Weiss again, being truly happy for the first time in months, it had been a dream she simply hadn't wanted to wake from. She hadn't wanted to think of anything else. Of the reasons why she'd left. Of why she'd been so miserable in the first place.

Things hadn't changed. Not at all. She knew that. She caught up with the news whenever she could. She knew what it said, or what, more tellingly, it didn't. The Atlesian Press wasn't free. It might have been for the best, or it might not have been, but only one person could have made it that way. Just as only one person had signed a warrant for her arrest and countless others. That person wasn't Weiss. Or at least the Weiss she knew. The Weiss she wanted to be around. The Weiss she'd fallen in love with.

It was in that moment that Ruby realised what she had to do. For her sake more than anyone else's. Despite how much it hurt, it hadn't been a mistake coming back here. This time she could do it properly. Get some closure. She just needed to work out how to say it and to steel her heart against the undoubted pleas.

* * *

 

Half an hour later she reappeared in the corridor without Zwei and knocked on the open door. Weiss looked up from her computer, there was tightness near her eyes that spoke of stress, but her expression lifted as she took in who was disturbing her. It was painful just how beautiful Weiss was. It made her ache.

"Umm… can we talk?"

"Not right now, something's come up, but we can have lunch together. We can talk then."

Ruby closed the door behind her. "It's important."

"Okay," Weiss' reply was somewhat curious. "Do you want to sit?"

"Umm… yeah."

"Are you ok? You seem nervous." There was only concern in her voice.

It made it all the harder. Ruby had tried to come up with a way of softening the blow, but there simply wasn't a way. It would hurt them both no matter what. In the end she decided just to get it out in the open. Just like ripping off a bandage, faster was better.

"I'm leaving."

"Excuse me?" It was as if Weiss hadn't heard, or was incapable of hearing her.

"Weiss, I'm leaving." Ruby looked her straight in the eye. This time she wouldn't vanish without a word.

"Wh…what?" Her voice trembled.

"I can't stay here." The fear on Weiss' face broke Ruby's heart. Again.

"You want to go back to Atlas. Fine. You should have said so. We can be there in half an hour."

"Weiss… I can't stay here with you."

"But… but you came back." Weiss clutched at straws. Ruby so wanted to reach over the desk, to comfort her even as she hurt her, but she didn't. The break needed to be clean.

"Yes, I did. I wanted to see you again. I couldn't stay away, but I can't stay with you either. I need to leave."

Weiss sat back in her chair all the energy draining from her. A myriad of emotions flitted across her face. Bewilderment, shock, grief, and then nothing. Her face went blank. Ruby almost stood up to leave before she spoke a single resounding word.

"No."

"It's not your choice to ̶ ̶ "

"No," Weiss repeated as she leant menacingly over the desk. Ruby rose as well. "I will not allow it."

Ruby stood slowly. "You can't stop me."

"I can."

"No. You can't. What are you going to do? Have me arrested?"

"If necessary."

This was exactly the person who Ruby was running away from. "So what, I can be your girlfriend from a cell? Chained to a wall?" Weiss flinched. "I thought you loved me."

"That's rich coming from you."

"Weiss," Ruby said sadly and she spoke from the heart, "I do love you. I've never stopped loving you. I love you so much it hurts. I love the girl I met at Beacon. The one who helped me with my homework, made me cups of coffee, the one who sang in the shower. I fell in love and nothing about that has changed. I love that Weiss. That Weiss made me the happiest girl in the world. I love you. But I don't love the Ice Queen. I can't…" her voice broke.

"Oh not you too. That's not me! It's just a stupid name."

"It is you though. Don't you see it? It might be a stupid name, but it doesn't change what you did to earn it." The things Weiss had done still haunted her, and unless she was very much mistaken, they haunted Weiss as well. "The Ice Queen is as real as you are."

"She's not. You haven't been here. Everything I've done has been for Atlas. I've made people's lives better."

Weiss hadn't looked in a mirror recently; she wouldn't have recognised the person within it. Ruby couldn't. It was all very well saying it had been for the greater good, but Ozpin used that argument as well. He'd used it when he'd massacred defenceless prisoners, and when he'd rendered her an outlaw.

"Really? Tell me, who works in your mines?" Ruby knew the answer. Weiss had broken the promise she'd made to all of them, especially Blake, back at Beacon. She'd promised that she wouldn't use slave labour. That she'd treat the Faunus fairly. It hadn't happened.

Weiss turned away. "The world isn't black and white. I'm not an idealistic naïve child anymore." There was a bitterness in her voice. "So, let's play a game. I pay out all the Faunus' contracts. You know what happens? There's no more Dust, and the Grimm wipe us all out within a year, if we don't do it to ourselves before then. It would throw the world into chaos. Maybe it's ok for you, but when I make decisions, the consequences reach every corner of the world."

Ruby hated the way that Weiss was talking down to her. "You could pay them."

"Get down off your damn high horse! I am paying them. The mines are safer than they've ever been. The Faunus have healthcare, and their contracts are for fixed terms. There are more Faunus applying now than there have ever been.

"But let's take it to extremes shall we?  _I pay them._  More than I am doing. It means I have to raise prices." She started ticking items off her finger. "Dust becomes unaffordable for the masses. There are rolling blackouts, riots in the streets, people blame their governments." She slammed her hand down on the desk. "And there's a bloody uprising! Maybe more than one. Thousands die. Because  _I pay them_  as you put it. You just don't understand how precariously the world is balanced."

Weiss was treating her like an idiotic child. Perhaps she hadn't known that Weiss had improved the circumstances of the Faunus in the mines, and perhaps she wasn't as well versed with global politics as Weiss was, but she knew what was right and what was wrong.

"I'm sure you and Ozpin would handle any uprisings fine."

"Don't you dare put that on me. I had no idea what he was planning with the White Fang."

"And what about the war here?" That morning would be etched in her memory forever. She'd switched on the TV to see the news of scores of 'accidents' and disappearances, only to have Weiss come home and promise her that she was safe. It was the moment when the perfect fallacy of her life had been shattered.

"They killed my father! They tried to kill me, and Winter, and you! Do you want me admit it? Fine. I ordered those strikes. Do you know why? Because it was the best solution. If I hadn't Atlas would have dissolved into a civil war. Tens of thousands would have died, maybe including us. I made a judgement call. A few hundred for a hundred thousand. It's simple mathematics."

Weiss was so cold. Yang's nickname had always been ironic. Weiss had only been cold to those who hadn't known her. Now she suited it perfectly. The numbers didn't lie, only the logic behind them. One life could not be equated with one life.

Ruby was entirely at a loss for words. She just didn't know how to answer such a rationally exclaimed justification for murder. It went against every single facet of her being.

"And that's why I need to leave. Weiss I can't be a part of your world. I won't."

"And I told you no."

"It's not your decision to make."

"I am not going to lose you again."

Ruby had made a pledge not to cry. Tears weren't gathering at the corners of her eyes. She turned away from Weiss and started walking towards the door. "You've already lost me. Just as I've lost you. You aren't the person you once were. When you speak like this I don't even know you."

"Of course you do. I'm the same person I was last night."

"No you're not!" She snapped, turning back to Weiss. "How can you not see it?"

"Because I am me. Last night I was with you." She moved from behind the desk as she spoke. "This morning I had to do what was best for almost three million people. You have no idea what that feels like. It would crush you."

Ruby had to admit that. She could never have coped in Weiss' position. It just wasn't in her to be able to make the tough calls that govern a nation, but the pressure wasn't an excuse.

"You're right," Ruby admitted. "You're stronger than me. But you're going to have to be stronger without me. I can't bear to see you like this."

"You are not leaving." Weiss' brow darkened and the room grew noticeably colder.

"I am. Or at least I'm going to try to." Ruby didn't have to look to know it was a glyph suddenly pressing against her back. "Weiss," her voice softened, imploring the Weiss she knew to come to the forefront. "You have two options. You can try and stop me, we can fight, and if you win every time you see me afterwards it will have to be with me in chains. But I can't believe you'd want that. Your other option is to say goodbye. I could have run off again, but I didn't. I wanted to do this properly, so here I am. It's up to you."

The muscles beneath Weiss' perfect cheeks tensed as she fought herself internally. Ruby waited. It had been a gamble confronting Weiss, but she'd told the truth. She'd wanted to do this right. The last time she hadn't and Weiss had ordered her arrest. So much could have gone differently if she'd just had the courage in the first place.

At this exact moment it wavered. The strife within Weiss' expression was very real and it was impossible to tell which option would win the day. Weiss had been prepared to have her returned at all costs. There was a chance that she would do the same to keep her.

And yet… despite everything, she just couldn't believe that was ultimately what Weiss would want. Weiss, her Weiss, had a good soul, and it was that side of her that Ruby prayed would triumph. Eventually Weiss spoke and it was not in the strong tone of a queen.

"I don't want to lose you." The glyph dissolved away.

"I know."

Weiss clutched her hand like a lifeline and abandoned all her pride in a show of utter desperation. "Please."

The tears gliding down Ruby's cheeks matched those in Weiss' eyes. Her face was utterly broken. It was so close. The single word slid home like a dagger and Ruby almost crumbled. This was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her entire life. She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

After witnessing the effect of driving the final nail home, Ruby took Weiss in her arms. She cradled Weiss' head as her body racked with sobs. Time passed. Ruby wasn't sure just how long she held the most powerful woman in the world, but eventually Weiss pushed herself away, wiping her red eyes.

"Where will you go?" her voice was grief-laden.

"I… I don't know." She hadn't thought that far ahead. She hadn't even known if she would make it this far.

"What will you do?"

That was easier. "Try and find Yang, Dad. Do you know where?"

Weiss shook her head. "Vacuo. Or at least they were when Yang hung up on me. But no; they've gone to ground."

The bitterness was obvious. Ruby knew just how her sister would have handled the news she'd run off. Yang would have blamed Weiss entirely. But Vacuo made sense. Many of the renegade hunters were ending up there. Vale still wouldn't be safe for her, but without Weiss hunting her down as well she could be more overt in her search for her sister. It might be safe for her, but it wouldn't be safe for them.

"Did you…" Ruby didn't want to think this of Weiss, but she had to ask. "Did you reveal Blake's past?"

"Of course not." It was an angry dismissal, like one of old. "Adam kept a journal. He wrote it all down. Ozpin was furious when he read it. When he found out that Blake had been under his nose all that time. That she'd managed to trick him. If he finds her…" Weiss let the thought hang in the air.

Ruby stopped a heartbeat from confessing it all to Weiss. What she'd been doing. Just who she believed Ozpin to be. But she couldn't. Atlas and Vale were intrinsically linked. Over the past two years they had become the closest of allies.

It had been through Weiss and Ozpin working together that the settlement program in Vale had been a success. At best Weiss might have believed the tall story, that the person she'd had state dinners with was thousands of years old. At worst Weiss might inform Ozpin of what she'd been told. If that was the case, then even the border of Vacuo wouldn't stop him from hunting her down. At one time Ruby had been certain that she'd never find cause to lie to her other half of her soul, but, as Weiss had so succinctly pointed out, back then she'd been naïve.

"Do you want me to give them a message?"

Weiss half-turned away, before shaking her head. In that forlorn moment she appeared lonely, ever so lonely. Ruby had to wonder if she had any friends. You could only truly be friends with your equal and who was Weiss' equal now? Winter perhaps, surely no one else.

They'd both run out of words. Time trickled by with them just staring in each other, sating themselves with the other's appearance, but eventually they had to move on. Life had to move on. "I guess… I'll be going then."

"No!" With a lurch Ruby thought Weiss had changed her mind. "Stay here. Please. I need to get something." Some of Ruby's hesitation must have shown in her face. "Please. Promise me you won't leave before I get back."

"Umm." She wasn't sure about this. Weiss' demeanour had changed dramatically. She was almost frantic. This was important to her, but just what it was Ruby didn't know. "I promise." She still trusted Weiss. Mostly.

Weiss took off at a dash. For a moment Ruby wondered just how that must look to any staff she passed. The Lady Schnee running with a tear-stained face. It would certainly incite gossip. While Ruby thought about that, her body carried her to the window and she glanced down. The office was on the fifth floor, high, though survivable for her. It was almost a betrayal to believe that Weiss might return with guards. She didn't truly think it, but she'd learned the hard way to always have an alternate route of escape prepared.

Weiss returned by herself fifteen minutes later, out of breath and carrying a metal case emblazoned with her House's sigil. It thumped when she put it on her desk. Weiss' relief that Ruby hadn't left was plain. She slid the case over to her. "Open it."

Ruby walked forward. It wasn't big, about the size of a businessman's briefcase, and clearly designed with protection in mind. There was no opening mechanism. "I don't…"

"Oh… sorry…" Weiss rounded the table and pressed her thumb to the almost invisible scanner. "You should be able to open it too." With them almost touching, the soft scent of lavender wafted over Ruby. It took all her strength not to give in to her sudden urge.

The case hissed, air escaping from it, and the top opened. Two opaque cylinders rested inside against protective foam, all marked with a white snowflake against the black. The design of the cylinders was familiar; they were almost the same as used in any Dust store, but much heavier duty. Ruby's mouth fell open as her mind deduced what they contained. "I can't."

"Nonsense."

"Weiss that's got to be…" she couldn't even begin to fathom just how much the White Dust in those tubes was worth. On the rare occasions some was publically auctioned mere handfuls went for eye-watering prices, and there was a lot more than a handful in those tubes.

Weiss shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I'm not taking no for an answer. I want you to take it. You can modify Crescent Rose. If you ever need to, use it. Don't think about the cost. I just want you to stay safe. Please."

She could redesign Crescent Rose. It would be tricky, but possible. She'd never felt the need to use Dust before; Crescent Rose hit more than hard enough by itself, but White Dust was different. She'd seen it in use, and it completely altered the balance of a fight. There had been times in the past two years when she could have done with something to tip the scales. Fights where she'd got hurt, with White Dust they would have been over before they'd begun.

"Thank you." There wasn't much more Ruby could say.

Weiss pushed the lid of the case closed. "I… I've got something else for you." Where she'd been business-like with the Dust, now she seemed hesitant, almost nervous.

Ruby took the palm-sized package from her. It was light enough to barely register in her hand, and was draped in the softest white silk. It seemed fragile, and her fingers carefully unwrapped it. The silk revealed two thin panes of glass with a flower pressed between them. A common daffodil. Ruby looked up.

Weiss braved a smile. "It's a weed. Do you remember? On the day I broke up with Neptune and told you about myself, you called it pretty and put it in my hair. That was the day when I realised just how special you were, not romantically, but as a friend, my first friend. You didn't call me a freak, or reject me, you accepted me as me. You have no idea just how much that meant…" She trailed off, momentarily lost in thought. "I wanted to have a memory of that day, and when I realised it was still in my hair, the daffodil was perfect. For so long I'd been a weed in my father's eyes, but you saw past that, saw me. I found it when I went back to our old dormitory. It was right where I'd hidden it." Weiss closed Ruby's hand around it. "I want you to have it."

"Weiss…" Ruby barely managed to choke out. In truth she'd forgotten. It had happened so long ago and so much had happened since. But Weiss hadn't forgotten. She'd kept this memento all this time. This reminder of what they'd once had. Weiss had always had difficulty lowering her inhibitions and performing romantic gestures, but the ones she did manage were all the more special because of it.

This was one was special, perhaps the most special. Ruby brought the flower to her breast. Even though Weiss must have been in agony, she'd shared a gift that Ruby would treasure. She didn't care how many mansions she could buy with the Dust on the table, the daffodil was infinitely more valuable. She'd treasure it always.

Looking into Weiss' glistening eyes it was almost unbearable to know it might be for the last time. This was her Weiss, pure and simple. The one she'd fallen in love with. The one which still existed in the complex tapestry that was the human soul. "Thank you."

Incredibly carefully Ruby rewrapped it and slid it into her pocket before picking up the case of Dust from the desk. The flower was almost the straw that broke her resolve. With every second she spent with Weiss it creaked and strained.

Weiss half-raised a hand before hesitantly dropping it. "Just one last… if you want?"

Ruby sniffed and nodded. The kiss was clumsy. Neither of them were in any state to control it better. It didn't last long, and it wasn't one to remember. As they broke apart fresh tears appeared on Weiss' cheeks.

"Please keep in touch. You don't have to call. Just let me know you're alright."

"I will." That was a promise that Ruby could keep.

"And if you ever need anything, and I mean anything, just ask."

Ruby knew in that moment that the offer was sincere. If she asked, Weiss would deploy an army to help her. But the one thing she wouldn't do was give it all up.

"Thank you. Look after Zwei for me."

"Of course."

Ruby stepped towards the door. They stood looking at each other, both crying, both miserable, and deep down both knowing it couldn't be any other way.

"Ruby… I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I'm sorry for everything."

"I know. I love you too."

Weiss tried to smile for her. She tried to put on a brave face so the last memory Ruby had of her would be a good one.

"I suppose this is it then."

"I suppose."

Weiss nodded, finally accepting the reality of the situation. "Goodbye Ruby. Please stay safe, and remember, anything you need."

Ruby's lower jaw trembled with suppressed emotion. She needed to leave. She didn't want to. She was at war with herself. She loved Weiss, but she hated the person who the world required Weiss to be. Perhaps in the distant future they might be together, but right at this moment, it was impossible.

Ruby took a deep breath and said the single word that contained so much.

"Goodbye."

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

"Nora!" Pyrrha shouted, pointing at the Grimm about to strike Jaune in the back.

It only took a brief glance for Nora to understand the situation and formulate a plan. She dived away from the Grimm that had been charging at her and brought Magnhild down squarely on the Creep's back. Its spine snapped under the heavy head of the hammer; its claws spasmed only feet from Jaune as it gave a final cry. Ren broke off from his own engagement and stopped Nora's original Creep in its tracks.

Pyrrha swelled with pride. She'd missed this: being part of a well-oiled team, all acting for each other's best interests. Surrounded by towering trees, she could almost imagine that she was back at Beacon, back in the Emerald Forest, back when her biggest concerns had been her grades. It was pleasant to imagine, but even this fight wasn't all that it seemed.

Nora had come to them with a bumper contract ̶ ̶ one that she and Ren couldn't handle on their own ̶ ̶ and Jaune had persuaded her to help their friends. At the time she'd been reluctant, Joseph was so near, but she had to admit that he'd been right about it now. It had been good to take her mind off her troubled thoughts and simply concentrate on straight-forward combat. The Grimm were evil, and it was her place to protect the nearby village.

With a massing confluence of Grimm, the villagers had put out a call for help. They'd wanted four hunters, probably more, they'd believed that only that many would be able to save them. Nora had known better; no one were as good as JNPR. Pyrrha knew better still. She and Jaune could have done this alone.

She owed so much to Ren and Nora; they had been steadfast friends when all the sense in the world would have told them to abandon her. She had never known two kinder people, but she had to admit the truth. While they were good hunters, better than most, she and Jaune were several levels above them.

Even now they were fighting within themselves. There was no way Jaune hadn't known the Creep was behind him. The clarity that his sensors provided him sometimes scared Pyrrha; she never knew just what he was able to see or hear. He'd known the Creep was there and hadn't dealt with it. She hadn't either. She could have thrown Akoúo, fired a few shots off with Miló, or even ripped Magnhild from Nora's hands and dealt with it herself. Instead all she'd done was alert her friend. Allowed her to feel useful. Treated her as if she were needed.

It was perhaps condescending, or unkind, but so far neither Ren nor Nora had picked up on it. Perhaps because this wasn't the first time that they'd all been on a hunt together. The deception hadn't been a conscious decision on Pyrrha's part, and she didn't think it had been one on Jaune's either, instead it had just occurred spontaneously. They'd both just moved so far past fighting Grimm. So far that she didn't even have to concentrate in the midst of a battle.

Akoúo rang crisply as a Creep launched itself at her and she caught its claws. A quick stab sent Miló through the gap in its armour and into its chest. With a cruel twist she wrenched it out, fighting against the suction, before jamming the tip through its eye.

Creeps were perhaps some of the easiest Grimm to deal with, but even the greenest student knew not to leave one wounded on the ground. Especially if that ground was in the centre of their nest. Technically hunting them wasn't the reason they'd been hired but, after noticing the telltale tracks of the Creeps, none of them could ignore them in good conscience.

The protocol for neutralising the nest was simple and effective. Kill every Creep that tried to stop them, then collapse the main entrance of the burrow with a few well-placed explosives. It was a tactic that they'd used once at Beacon, and now it was even easier.

Pyrrha didn't know quite why it was, but even the Creeps pouring from their den had failed to cause more than a brief spike in her heartrate. Maybe it was because of everything she'd seen and done, or maybe she was just more comfortable in her skin than ever before, but mere Grimm seemed mundane.

With Miló in its sword form she parried a set of gore-darkened claws, and with a riposte separated them from their limb. The Creep thrashed in agony for a moment before Akoúo crunched into its ribs. Pyrrha had yet to need her Semblance and, judging by how the fight had gone so far, neither would Jaune.

Despite his capability, Pyrrha couldn't help but check on him every few moment. The habit formed when he'd needed the most support on of their team was hard to break. In the past she'd always had to make sure he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew, or gotten himself in a mess and needed rescuing.

She didn't need to, but it didn't help that for whatever reason he still insisted on fighting with a sword and shield. The sword wasn't Crocea Mors ̶ ̶ that weapon had been lost in the fall of Vale ̶ ̶ but it was based on the same design. Although it was still a simply forged length of metal, he wielded it with vastly more skill and strength than he once had. With a single strike he buried his blade deep within the skull of the nearest Creep, splitting the armoured plates that could easily shrug off bullets.

His new body was a marvel, and Pyrrha knew he hated it. For her the miracle that he was alive trumped all else but, though they'd never talked about it, his behaviour told the truth. There was some sense to him wielding a normal weapon where others could see him, after all it would have been detrimental to reveal his nature. Out here though, in the middle of Mistrali forests, it was only their team. He probably could have soloed the entire nest if he used the swords in his back, but, as long as they weren't in severe danger, that was exactly where they would stay.

Pyrrha could understand, mostly. It must have been difficult to make the transition. She'd discovered enough on her quest to know that some of the Tinmen simply hadn't been able to adapt and had ultimately rejected their synthetic bodies. Jaune had managed, but he still wished he was human.

Pyrrha reprimanded herself for that thought. Jaune was human. In every way that mattered. With him definitive evidence existed that a person was defined by their soul, and not their body. Jaune may not have been biological any longer, but he still loved her with all his heart.

The sputtering of StormFlower died and the Creep that Ren had unloaded his weapons into fell backwards, the soft underside of its jaw in ruins. He spun around searching for another enemy and found none. Apart from heavy breathing, the nest fell silent.

"Is everyone alright?" Ren asked, still keeping his weapons up.

"Of course." Nora laughed as she crushed the skull of a Grimm that was still twitching. Her pink dress might have been covered in mud and gore, but she seemed to be having the time of her life.

The rest of them were more reserved. Pyrrha gave herself a quick visual inspection before nodding. Jaune didn't even bother to do that, no doubt he would have had a warning if he'd been hurt.

"Good." Despite traditionally being the quiet one of their team, Ren had become its leader on the rare occasions when they were together.

It was a good fit. Ren always thought things through before taking action, a perfect counter to Nora's usual exuberance. As for Pyrrha, she didn't want the burden of leadership, not to mention that she sometimes caught either Ren or Nora staring. They'd never quite been able to forget what they'd seen when they'd insisted accompanying her in her war against Enerdyne; they still didn't trust her completely. She didn't blame them. The chips had fallen where they may.

Jaune hadn't wanted to reprise his role either. When questioned, he'd at least admitted to her that he'd already failed once, he wouldn't do so again. Nothing that happened in Vale had occurred because of his leadership, but it didn't stop him blaming himself. She just wished she could relieve that burden of needless guilt.

"Nora, would you do the honours?" Ren indicated the entrance to the network of burrows.

Nora grinned manically. "I was starting to think you'd never ask." It was no surprise to anyone who knew her that she took great pleasure in being their demolition expert, or as she put it 'making things go boom.' The rest of them provided cover as she extracted half a dozen of her grenades and set about sinking them into the hard-packed soil, and rigging a makeshift detonator.

"Alright," Nora said twisting the last wires together. The four of them backed out of the small clearing, taking shelter behind the trees. "Anyone want to make a speech?"

"Nora…" Ren warned, conscious of the dropping sun.

"Fine." She pouted. "Heads up."

The series of explosions was somewhat anticlimactic. The grenades had been sunk far enough into the earth that there was only a small flash and a minor thump. Nora's skill had directed the majority of the energy downwards into the tunnels beneath their feet. The ground rumbled as they began to collapse. When they peered out at the clearing again it resembled a sinkhole half a dozen feet deep. It was possible that with some work some of the tunnels would be habitable again, but the rotting corpses would likely keep any other Creeps away.

"Good work." Ren patted Nora on the shoulder. "We should get going. We can eat on the move."

Jaune took point and Pyrrha stepped in behind him. The tremors of the explosions and subsequent collapse would have notified all the Grimm around of their location. Though they were here to kill as many as possible, it was always wiser to fight on your own terms.

Apart from an encounter with a dozen baby Nevermores that she and Ren made quick work of, the lack of light brought an end to their patrol. Jaune led them to a small clearing where a ring of stones with ashes in the centre showed that they weren't the first to take refuge here.

They settled into an easy routine which showed long practice. As Jaune went to get water and Ren decided what to cook, she and Nora started to prepare the camp. Pyrrha left Nora to erect the tents while she circled the clearing, double-checking for any tracks that indicated Grimm regularly passed this way, while collecting armfuls of dry firewood that would burn without smoke.

By the time she'd completed two circuits and was confident that they were safe, a fire crackled, and an aromatic plume of steam was rising from the small pot placed on a tripod. That was one advantage to taking jobs with Ren and Nora. Whereas she and Jaune preferred to eat instant food that only required hot water, Ren's campfire meals were a little more elaborate.

After a full day of walking and the exertion of several skirmishes, the stew with plump little dumplings floating on top made her mouth water. She sat on a log next to Jaune and rested her head on his shoulder. Even after all this time she was sometimes unable to believe she was able to do something so simple again. She'd thought she'd lost him forever.

"So who wants to celebrate?" Nora emerged from her tent with a six-pack of beers in hand.

"Nora," Ren said, breaking away from his cooking, "why on Remnant do you have those?"

"To celebrate silly!"

"Celebrate what?"

"Us all being back together," Nora said it as if it were obvious.

Ever since they'd agreed to go on this hunt she hadn't really stopped smiling. It was strange to Pyrrha. After everything Nora had been through, deserting from the military, being a criminal on the run, knowing that she couldn't save everyone in Mistral, Nora was still happy. She still managed to smile. Where Pyrrha could only see a dark and troubled future, Nora looked at the same landscape and called it beautiful. As far as she was concerned, as long as they were all together as friends, that was all that mattered.

"Don't you think we should celebrate after the hunt?" Ren asked.

"There's no need to worry. We won't run out." Nora bit the cap off the bottle. "There's more in your pack."

Ren sighed, recognising another argument lost to the unique thought process of his partner. He muttered under his breath as he returned to the cooking. "I thought it seemed heavier."

"Pyrrha, do you want one?" Nora held out a bottle. In all honesty Pyrrha agreed more with Ren, the middle of a hunt was not the place to be drinking, but with Nora as happy as this she couldn't turn her down. The bottle cap popped off seemingly of its own accord and Nora cheered.

"Thank you." Pyrrha swallowed a mouthful. Despite being warm it was a blessed relief after a long hunt. She let her Aura fall completely.

"Jaune?"

Alcohol didn't have any effect on his body; any drinking would be purely symbolic, but just like her he'd obviously decided that he didn't want to disappoint Nora when she'd planned this special occasion. "Thanks." It might not have been a twist off, but it didn't seem to matter to him.

Nora didn't give Ren a choice, thrusting a bottle into his open hand. She held hers up. "To team JNPR!" Their toast didn't quite match the exultation in her cry, but the sentiment was there. Pyrrha had missed this.

Eating a delicious meal around a warm fire, listening to Nora regale them with a blow by blow account of her fight ̶ ̶ which had somehow grown in scope despite them all being there ̶ ̶ and having Jaune's strong arm around her shoulders made Pyrrha morose. This was what she'd really wanted from Beacon. She hadn't attended just to graduate top in her class at the best combat school on the planet, or to catapult her career even higher as her parents desired. No, what she'd always wanted was quite, quite simple. She'd wanted friends.

Looking around at Nora laughing, at Ren's small smile, and at Jaune, she realised she had them, but there would always be a barrier between them. If things had been different she would have been in her third year at Beacon, maybe sitting in the library at this exact moment, or in the canteen, and her hands wouldn't be stained with blood.

She didn't regret what she'd had to do. Enerdyne had needed to be stopped. She could only regret, now she'd seen what happened with the Tinmen, that she hadn't been able to stop it sooner. If only she'd been stronger, smarter, she might have been able to save the lives of some of those children.

She'd failed. But in that failure a miracle had occurred. With how all the little factors had aligned it almost seemed as if there had been some deity watching over her, guiding her towards the impossible. She'd achieved it. Jaune was alive once more, but she couldn't help think that there was something missing. Something else the pair of them should be doing with their lives.

"…isn't that right Pyrrha?"

She looked up startled at the sound of her name. Nora was gesturing at her expectantly. "Uhh… sure."

It must have been the right thing to say. "See, I told you!"

"I never doubted you for a moment," Ren said in a tone that spoke of long-suffering. "But it's getting late. It's time for bed. Plus none of us want a hangover in the morning."

Nora groaned. "Ten more minutes," she pleaded in her most childlike voice, but she was unable to hide her grin.

"Bed now," Ren played along before speaking more seriously. "Who wants first watch?"

"I'll take it," Jaune was quick to answer.

He always seemed to volunteer for more than his fair share of watches. Logically it made sense. With his senses the darkness was no barrier to him and he didn't get physically tired, not to mention his  _problem_. But it always meant that Pyrrha had to go to bed alone, and tonight would likely be no different.

As Nora and Ren wished them goodnight and clambered into their own tent, Pyrrha remained sitting next to Jaune, sipping on her drink. The alcohol had helped. Her head swam pleasantly. Jaune was still warm, still soft, he even smelled like he always did. As the sun dipped behind the trees and the shadows stretched towards them, Pyrrha clung on to him.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked staring up at the purple sky.

"Nothing."

Pyrrha felt a stab of irritation; it was impossible to think about nothing. He had to have been thinking about something. "No, come on, tell me."

"Just… stuff."

"Jaune." Pyrrha took her head off of his shoulder and glared at him. He was being deliberately vague. Even while irritated she couldn't help but marvel at just how attractive he was. Maybe he didn't have what most would consider good, movie star-like looks, but his profile against the setting sun made her ache. She'd never known it was possible to love someone as much as she loved him.

"It's nothing, really."

"Then you won't mind telling me, will you?"

He sighed. "I was just… thinking about today. What we've been doing. We're helping people here."

"So?" It sounded like there was more.

"It feels good."

"Yeah, it does." There was something so satisfying about seeing the relief on someone's face when they arrived. Not to mention how much she'd enjoyed being back in the presence of Nora's boisterous personality.

"We could just keep doing this. There's no need to drag everything up again."

Could they? Could they really pretend that nothing had happened? Pretend that everything was ok? That the programming in Jaune didn't make him try and kill her every other month? Or that Joseph was simply ignoring them? Could they live with those lies? Had they already done all that could be possibly be expected of them? And was it someone else's turn to take up her mantle?

It would be better without the weight. Pleasant even. Despite herself, she'd enjoyed today. She'd enjoyed the fights. She'd enjoyed spending time with her friends. She'd enjoyed the expedition. The trek through the beautiful forest at the heart of her homeland. The majestic animals that lived here and suffered their intrusion. She enjoyed the burn of her muscles as she climbed a hill or a tree to get a better view, and the refreshing dip in the coldness of a stream. She'd enjoyed it all. It almost made her feel normal.

As normal as a hunter could feel at any rate. Her concerns and worries would never be limited to merely what was on TV that evening, but surely she could choose how to live her life. To do good things.

All she'd had to do was admit her own weakness. Admit that she hadn't been strong enough to stop Enerdyne. That she still wasn't strong enough. To abandon the world to Joseph, to his Tinmen. To admit that she and Jaune would never be together. -

In the long nights when she'd laid awake for fear of going to sleep, listening to the sound of his  _breathing_ , the thought continued to come back to her mind. The fact that what should have been her greatest triumph, a miracle, had metamorphosed into this living hell was something she was unable to escape from.

Jaune attempting to kill her,  _god_  commanding him, was only what she deserved. In her grief and rage, she had committed some truly terrible sins. Killed time and time again. Occasionally justified, but never right. No one possibly deserved happiness after that.

As he choked her, as the blood pooled in her brain, and the air in her lungs stilled, she sometimes struggled to find the will to fight back. To live. His enforced retribution for her crimes, that was right, what she deserved. That was what a jury would have decided, the punishment the judge would have levied, and in this, Jaune was her judge, jury, and executioner.

Only one thing had stopped her from giving in, her complete and total love for him. Sometimes she might have hated herself, but not him, never him. Jaune was the light of her life, her anchor, and for him she fought back.

Her death might have brought her the peace of nothingness, but Pyrrha knew with certainty that if she died by his hands, Jaune would follow her. She couldn't allow that. To allow the world to be robbed of his goodness again. It was why she'd fought her away across a continent, overcome any barrier in her path, and sullied her own soul to avenge the crime of his death.

The world needed Jaune's laughter and, if she let him kill her, it would never hear it again. Deep down inside Pyrrha knew it wouldn't anyway. Despite how he would protest, Jaune wasn't happy. He might say he was, but she almost knew him better than he did himself.

He didn't like living in Mistral, so far from his family, from the others he loved. They'd come here because they thought it safer from Joseph, that he would have been hunting them down. He hadn't. In the two years since there hadn't even been a warrant put out for their arrest.

They were safe, and she wanted to shatter the sanctuary that they had found. Restart their war. As much as she didn't believe it, maybe Joseph had simply forgotten them, consigned them to annals of the past. If she continued on her path, acting on whatever information about him she was able unearth, then Jaune would undoubtedly follow her. And when he saw what she would have to do again, his laugh would be no more.

In comparison to that, surely there was a better option. One that had the possibility, however remote, of a happy, fulfilling future. One where Jaune would smile, where his eyes would glitter, where he would laugh, and kiss her without remorse. It was a dream worth clinging to.

"Maybe…" her reply to Jaune's statement was hesitant, but he seized upon it.

"Yes?"

"But what would we do?"

"We could do anything. We could stay out here with Ren and Nora. We could move closer to your parents. Or we could probably go and live nearer mine. I don't mind."

"Do you want that?" It was obvious to her just how much he missed being around his family. The few reunions they had clearly hadn't been enough. And it was her fault, but at least he was around to miss his family.

"Perhaps. I mean… yes, but I'll do anything you want."

He was always quick to cede to her wishes. She knew it was because of the guilt of what he was forced to do to her. No matter how many times she said she absolved him of blame, it had no effect. He continued to hate himself.

That truth was enough to make her consider life back in Vale. Could she really hope that they were in the clear? That Jaune could live peacefully with his family again? She wished she could. Jaune's parents had welcomed her with open arms, and with a warmth that wasn't tinged by commercial interests. Thoughts of his sisters who hadn't yet left home had reminded her of the childhood that she hadn't had.

Perhaps, just maybe, she could be happy there. That they could be happy there. They could live near Jaune's parents. Hunt the few Grimm who survived in mainland Vale. Maybe even through adoption or a donor have children. Raise a family. Be a loving family. Teach their sons and daughters to be better than their parents. Live the dream she'd always had hidden behind her career as a champion fighter.

"Then why don't we?"

"What?" He started in surprise. Both because she'd been silent for so long, but also because of what she'd said.

"Why don't we?" Pyrrha discovered an almost forgotten expression had appeared on her face. A smile. A real, broad one. One that captured the possibilities of the impossible future she'd now realized maybe wasn't. One that wasn't feigned, wasn't weighed down by a dozen regrets and worries. One that represented hope.

"You're… you're saying yes?"

"Yes," Pyrrha said through her broad grin.

Slowly as understanding came to him a similar expression formed on Jaune's lips. "You want to?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes." It was so easy. It was as if an anchor weighing her down had suddenly turned to clouds.

"Where?"

"I don't care. Or the when. Just soon."

"But what about my ̶ ̶ "

Pyrrha interrupted him. She didn't want to ruin the moment with talk about his problem. "It doesn't matter. We'll figure something out." They would. Perhaps when they were living a comfortable life, not constantly on edge, it would just fade away.

"But what about ̶ ̶ "

"Jaune. Don't think too much. Just tell me honestly. Do you want to move back nearer your family?"

Even without the years she had known him it would have been easy to tell just how that singular wish burned through his nerves. He'd sacrificed so, so much for her. His career, his family, even his life. She wanted to make up for it.

"Yes, but ̶ ̶ "

A finger on his lips silenced him. "No buts. We'll find a way. We've got a bit in our accounts, at least enough for the travel, and when we get the deposit back for the apartment we'll have enough to set up. I want to do this. Leave everything behind and start fresh. All with you. And Ren and Nora if they want." A clean break, and then, after that, endless possibilities. "One word Jaune, that's all it will take." She removed her finger.

It was obvious what his answer was going to be. She could only be ashamed she hadn't realised what he truly wanted all this time. It had been selfishness. She'd wanted him for herself, never realising that all the times he'd said he wanted to leave, in reality he'd only wanted to be nearer his family. It had never been a lack of love on his part, only his capacity for love drawing him in two directions. He was far too selfless, always putting others over him, her most of all. No longer. From this point on she would devote herself to pleasing the keeper of her heart.

"Yes." Jaune nodded. He understood the weight that the single syllable carried. With the single utterance their life changed, and for the better. Flames from the fire were reflected in the tears on his cheeks.

They matched those only now escaping from Pyrrha's eyes. She was glad he was still able to cry. He'd always been different from those she had known before. Always more in touch with his emotional side. It was what made him so special. And just what made her love him so much.

Brimming with her new found resolve Pyrrha traced the line of his strong jaw with her fingertips before leaning in. They'd had another chance, one that no one else was given, and all they'd done was waste it. No longer.

In the middle of a forest, surrounded by trees and the chattering of small animals, with their friends nearby, and the last rays of sun slipping beneath the horizon, their lips met.

* * *

 

"Good work," Ren whispered so quiet he was barely audible. None of them dared even breathe in case they alerted their prey.

The Mogwai was just visible as it threaded its way through the trees. Short of being terrified Pyrrha only analysed the creature, working out just how difficult it would be to kill. Fairly, most likely, but nothing that she wouldn't expect from one of the most feared Grimm in her homeland.

At one time she would have been afraid of it, back when her parents had read her bedtime stories of horrible monsters and the brave hunters who had fought them. She'd always been scared to hear of the dripping fangs and the rending claws, but when the last page turned she'd always begged her parents for more.

The graphic descriptions of Mogwais had made her suffer through countless nightmares and, when compared to the reality, perhaps her childhood subconscious had been at least slightly justified. The Mogwai did live up to its name.

It was hard to quantify just what it reminded her of. An insect, maybe a praying mantis, but an insect twelve feet tall and with scythe-like limbs on the end of its arms. For them, the Mogwai wasn't particularly hard to see, but for the animals that lived here ̶ ̶ with their poor eyesight ̶ ̶ the Mogwai's camouflage served it well. A pitch-black carapace with jagged red stripes, its outline was broken up and distorted. It moved with the jagged locomotion of a creature the nerves of which fired too rapidly for smoothness.

Its vaporous wings fanned out, and with a push of its hind legs it hopped up a small incline. Its head jerked around as it searched for prey from its new vantage point. All four of those watching ducked down. The Mogwai's two huge eyes were almost the size of its head and no one knew just what its vision was like.

The choice to duck might have been instinctive but, as so often proved the case when fighting the Grimm, their instincts proved detrimental. The brief flash of movement in a forest full of swaying branches and falling leaves caught its attention. Their instincts might have proved detrimental, but the Mogwai's were honed by a life of slaughter. It could have seen them as prey or a threat but, regardless, its reaction was the same. It let out a hissing scream which grated against the canopy above and tore straight towards them.

Ren swore, Nora cried out and jumped up, but Pyrrha just watched. Her adrenaline barely spiked at all as the Grimm barrelled down on her, careening off tree trunks in its frenzy. Smoothly she dived to the side, rolling on her shoulder, and came up shooting. Miló barked repeatedly, the low calibre rounds bouncing off the Mogwai's thick carapace.

The bullets might have done no visible damage, but they achieved her aim and drew the Mogwai away from the rest of her team. She ducked beneath a scythe as tall as she was, and the metal-hard protrusion ripped through the trunk behind her, showering her in wood chips. She didn't even try and block the attack that came a heartbeat later. Even if it didn't breach her shield, the force behind the blow would likely have broken her arm. Instead she bobbed and wove, using all of her experience and training to dodge the swipes her conscious mind was barely able to register.

An explosion blossomed above her and the overpressure forced her down. The Mogwai jerked upwards, abandoning its pursuit of her and flailing toward the newest direction of attack. Nora fired again. The round itself missed its target, but it detonated in mid-air right next to the Mogwai's eyes.

It let out a screech and staggered sideways, right into Jaune. The Mogwai's carapace might have been thick enough that Pyrrha had only managed to draw scratches against its surface, but Jaune was an awful lot stronger than her. He brought his sword down on the Mogwai's leg with a two-handed swipe and chitin cracked.

The Grimm flailed again. Its leg caught Jaune and flung him away. Pyrrha quashed her momentary terror. The middle of a fight was no place to allow her imagination to run wild. She had to have faith that Jaune would be ok. She quashed the terror, but she stoked her anger, her rage, and poured it into her Semblance.

Miló shot from her hand in a blur. As fast as her Semblance-enhanced blow travelled, the Mogwai was faster. It managed to turn its head just enough that her spear careened off the armour immediately next to its vulnerable eye. Pyrrha Pulled Miló back into her waiting hand as she leapt in again.

The three of them practiced tactics that had been used against the Grimm for centuries. They might have been terrifying beasts but, for the most part, their thought processes were simple. Grimm destroyed that which was nearest, and they didn't allow this one an easy decision. When it turned towards Nora, she and Ren attacked, showering its eyes with low calibre rounds, and forcing it to come towards them again. It let out a screech of frustration as Ren dodged, the noise ripping through Pyrrha's eardrums.

Jaune arrived back on the scene, his shirt torn, but otherwise appearing unharmed. He slid beneath the stamping legs and thrust upwards at its belly. Another midnight plate of armour cracked, but that was it. The red patterns all over the Grimm began to glow and it let out its loudest scream. A scream so loud that Pyrrha unconsciously tried to shield her ears. A scream that was answered.

The reciprocating screech came from within the forest. As it sounded again there was no doubt in Pyrrha's mind that the second cry had been closer. Very soon they would have two hellish beasts to deal with. The approaching reinforcements had caused all of them to pause. Despite their efforts the Mogwai was largely unharmed, and two of the deadliest beasts in Mistral might well prove too much for them.

"Jaune!" she shouted at the same time as Ren tossed an object towards Nora.

Jaune turned towards her and she saw the conflict in his gaze. He didn't like to be reminded of what he was, but his team needed him. Swords sprang from his back. Pyrrha immediately snatched five of them away. She was good in melee combat but, as she'd found out, it was her Semblance that made her deadly.

With a flick of her hand she Pushed them towards the Grimm. The quintet of metal was a blur in the air and the blades tore through the translucent material of the Mogwai's wings. Like a conductor she directed the blades, their paths curving in the air before coming back around. Jaune attacked as well, his own set of swords held around his body, neon flashes of the lasers within burning themselves onto her retina. In the blink of an eye the Grimm suddenly had a swarm of a dozen or more blades to deal with, all striking independently.

Lightning erupted, Nora screamed, and then she began to laugh. Her electric-fuelled leap launched her a dozen feet through the air and she brought Magnhild down hard. The Mogwai's legs slipped out from under the force of the blow and its belly slammed into the ground.

Ren rushed in entirely unarmed. He'd stowed Stormflower away and thrust his palm forwards, intense concentration on his face. Even though his strike ended a foot away the Grimm jerked. Ren's palm struck again, hammering the invisible construct created by his Semblance and Aura into the Mogwai's side. The nail pierced the chitin and ichor leaked out.

The Grimm bounded upwards just in time for Nora to swing at its leg. Her hammer hit at the exact moment that the Grimm's weight settled upon it. It didn't snap cleanly, but a web of cracks appeared.

A cloud of blades descended on the Mogwai's head, and Pyrrha grinned cruelly as it let out its loudest screech yet; this one was not filled with fury, but with pain. Blood showered from the blade lodged in its multi-faceted eye and with her Semblance she ripped it sideways, tearing the orb.

It tried to take flight, to escape, but between her blades and Jaune's lasers its wings were shredded. It lashed out in agony, its pain giving its attacks even more power. Ren attempted to catch one he couldn't dodge on his Aura shield. The Mogwai's scythe was stopped dead in the air, but the captured momentum sent him tumbling backwards. Nora dived back in.

They were beginning to take their toll on the Grimm. With one of its eyes torn and rent, one of its legs broken, and numerous plates leaking ichor and blood, its movements slowed. The three of them showed it no mercy. They couldn't, not with Ren laying unmoving at the base of a tree, or with the knowledge that another Mogwai was approaching.

With fright for Ren consuming her, Nora had lost any sense of self-preservation. She waded in, hammering again and again on anything within reach, not caring if she left herself vulnerable or about the wounds that marred her body; her face twisted in mad snarl. She appeared every inch a berserker from the battlefields of her ancestry.

Magnhild smashed down and this time it broad head hit the side of knee. The joint snapped backwards, chitin shearing and fluids spurting all over her. The Grimm collapsed, its arms digging into the ground as it tried to support its weight. With its head within reach Jaune leapt upwards, a halo of swords hovering around him and, as he spun, they sliced through the Mogwai's other eye, lasers firing at point-blank range.

The Grimm's scream lacked the power that it had before, and this time Pyrrha caught one of its desperate strikes on Akoúo. The blow barely knocked her back. A crunch came from the other side of the Grimm's torso as Nora crippled another limb. Pyrrha thrust Miló into a gap in the armour at the neck. After a brief moment of resistance it sped up, spearing into the soft flesh beneath.

Jaune worked next to her with one of his blades in hand as he brought it down time and time again, not pausing between blows, working like an automaton. Almost as if he'd stopped thinking ̶ ̶ like she'd tried to teach him to ̶ ̶ and had lost himself into the immediacy of combat.

Together the pair of them carved away at the Mogwai's neck. The fearsome Grimm no longer had the energy to fight off their attacks; all it could do was twitch pitifully, its jaws and ruined eyes resting on the hard dirt. With one final swing Jaune broke through the last of its armour and the long neck and head rolled clear. Blood gushed from the stump, covering both of them in gore.

Pyrrha stowed her weapons and dropped her hands to her knees. The other Mogwai was on its way, but she knew the importance of taking a breather whenever the opportunity presented itself. Of course Jaune didn't need to. Although his diaphragm rose and fell, he stood perfectly straight, all his swords hovering in the air around him.

The skin of his face was flushed, but it made a lie of the exertion of the fight. Pyrrha tensed as she met his eyes. There was nothing of  _Jaune_ within them, in fact the only other times she'd seen him like that was when he ̶ ̶

One of his blades shot forwards. Pyrrha Pushed it away, and stumbled backwards falling down. Two more blades lunged for her. One scored her breastplate, burying itself deep with the hard-packed earth. "Jaune!" She scrambled away, attempting to get to her feet, but not managing to with the constant need to dodge.

Her desperate cry brought him back. She saw the life flare back into his eyes, just as she saw them widen as the rest of his swords blurred towards her, dispatched in the moments before he regained control. Pyrrha flared her Semblance, her Aura, Pushing outwards at any source of metal she could sense.

It wasn't enough. The blades were moving too fast, and her body was already too drained. She deflected some, but not all. There was no pain as the singular sword carved through her armour, through her flesh, split her skin and leaving her muscles rent. There was only a solid thump as if she'd been punched. Her arm collapsed and she stifled a scream as the blade that had pierced her bicep twisted. It was all she could do not to cry out.

"Pyrrha!" Jaune fell to his knees beside her. The warmth of his Aura surged into her. Getting healed by him was never exactly pleasant. It was not the comfortable process that the body used to repair damage over time. Instead it was as if molten fire surged through her nerves and into her wounds. It was more painful than being stabbed in the first place.

Her flesh tried to knit around the metal only to be rebuffed. In the agony of that  _healing_  she found the strength to reach up and tear the sword from her own arm, rending freshly mended flesh again.

She must have passed out for a moment. The next she knew was lying on floor, staring upwards at Jaune. Self-disgust and loathing seeped from him. He hated himself for what he'd done to her.

Pyrrha pushed herself into a sitting position. Her arm worked, just. Her bicep shook and burned as if she'd just gone through her last set of the day, but it was able to support her weight. Auras were nothing short of miraculous.

Nora rounded the Mogwai, one hand supporting Ren. They both paused when they saw her on the floor, her arm and clothes stained with blood that was clearly hers. "What happened?"

Pyrrha gritted her teeth and spoke through the pain. "Nothing. Just an accident. I slipped." Jaune started at the lie, the weight of guilt doubling. During the two years they'd never told Ren or Nora about what Jaune did when he lost control, and Pyrrha was determined to keep it that way.

"But ̶ ̶ "

"There's no time." The scream of the other Mogwai gave truth to her words. It would be upon them at any moment, but at this precise second, she was barely able to sit up, certainly not partake in a fight the magnitude of the one she knew was coming. "Jaune you know what you have to do. Nora, cover him." Ren looked as bad as she felt. She doubted he would be doing much more fighting today.

Jaune gave her one long stare, resigning himself to his fate, before rising. They could have ended the fight with the Mogwai almost before it began, or more accurately Jaune could have. He had capabilities that he never used. He'd never told her why. It might have hurt him, or maybe it was an extension that reminded him he wasn't human. There were very few motives that were strong enough to persuade him to utilise it, but her request was one of them.

The sword stained with her blood jerked into the air, those that were buried in the ground around her freed themselves. With tips pointing towards the source of the latest scream they, along with others, began to rotate if front of Jaune. A green luminescence appeared at their centre. A buzzing filled the air. Heat washed over them.

Using Akoúo and Ren as support, Pyrrha climbed to her feet. If this didn't work she didn't want to face the Mogwai from the ground. In front of her the blades spun faster, the light grew brighter, and the temperature rocketed.

A shape became visible through the forest. It charged towards them, ploughing straight through the smaller trees in its path and around the larger ones. It might have been a few hundred metres away and barely a shadow, but Jaune didn't wait.

Power erupted from him. Power on a scale that should have been impossible. It shouldn't have been able to emanate from a single person. A solid emerald lance blasted forward, the sheer force ripping stones from the ground. It burned her vision dark.

The trees in its path ceased to exist. A swathe of forest came tumbling down and began to burn. The Mogwai cried out for a fraction of an instant as pure unfiltered energy carved through its torso and carried on into the forest beyond. The Grimm exploded as its bodily fluids evaporated in an instant.

The beam died. Silence reigned. Silence apart from the crashing of trees in the part of the forest that had been laid to waste. Jaune's swords began to slow.

It was in that moment, observing the damage that he had wrought, with the pain of a phantom blade still lodged in her arm, when Pyrrha's naïve dream fell to pieces. It would never happen, could never happen. They couldn't hide from the truth. It had been ridiculous to even consider.

Jaune was not human. There were some facets of himself that he had no control over. They couldn't pretend that he didn't have a problem. They couldn't pretend he could master it. They couldn't travel back to Vale, buy a house near his parents, get married, raise children, all the while knowing that one day daddy might kill mummy. She couldn't live like that, and neither could Jaune.

They couldn't cower from what needed to be done. She and Jaune deserved happiness, but that would only come at a price. Jaune wouldn't like it, but there wasn't another choice. They, she, needed to confront Joseph for his crimes, and force him to undo what he'd done to Jaune's mind. Only after that would there be a future for them.

As of now, there was none.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The hairs on the back of Blake's neck stood on end as they neared the mouth of the red-rocked canyon. She knew what it meant—her instincts had been honed by incessant use—they were being watched. In the glare of the burning sun it was hard to see, but she found the origin of her uneasiness.

Dozens of feet above on top of the cliffs a scope glinted as it tracked the pair of them. Blake did her best to keep walking normally as Yang muttered out of the side of her mouth.

"I hate this part."

Blake nodded. They'd experienced it before, but it didn't make it any easier. It just wasn't in her to let someone point a gun at her without reacting. There wasn't even the assurance that she'd be able to survive should she be considered a threat. The satrapy of Airtafae took its defence seriously.

It was an attitude that had paid off. Airtafae was one of the oldest cities in the world and it had never fallen. Not to the Grimm and not to its neighbours. Even in modern times, it was considered close to impregnable. It wasn't hard to see why.

The city itself was cut into a maze of sheer cliffs, homes and even a palace were carved painstakingly from the rock. The only way into or out of Airtafae was through a passage barely ten feet wide. Even a handful of troops could hold it indefinitely and, in the middle of the desert, the besieging army would be the one to die of thirst. Despite its importance as a trading hub, and the riches associated with it, throughout history few had even made the attempt to take it.

Vacuan military technology was not as advanced as Atlesian, but it was more than sufficient to ensure no threat was able to breach the sanctity of the city. Thankfully the marksman didn't consider them one and the scope moved on to scan the caravan of camels a few hundred metres behind them.

It had taken the pair of them almost three weeks to travel from the depths of the desert to something approaching civilization. They hadn't come directly. They'd stopped to pick up a few contracts along the way but, even so, over the past two years they'd had to get use to travelling slowly. Out here there was no market for public transport, and purchasing a pair of horses was still beyond them. Where they could they'd negotiated passage on the rare wagon they encountered, but most of the time they walked. At least they'd traded sand for something approaching a proper road.

As they neared the gap that heralded the entrance to Airtafae, the shadow of the cliffs fell across them. The relief on the few parts of her skin that had been exposed to the sun was heavenly and Yang let out a groan. Blake almost joined her. It wasn't just the shade. They were nearly home. Or at least what passed for it these days.

There was a small crowd gathered at the security checkpoint flanked by machinegun nests. Yang shrugged off her pack, searching it for her ID and paperwork, while Blake did likewise. The documents were one hundred percent genuine, only the Valesh papers they'd used to originally apply had been fake.

Living under an assumed name again was grating, but Ozpin hadn't left her much choice. She was just lucky that, once they'd been able to prove their talents, their application for residency had been fast-tracked. They were still on temporary visas, but with the number of contracts they'd completed it shouldn't be too hard to renew.

"What's your business in Airtafae?" The miserable-looking official didn't bother with a greeting, but even Yang had the sense to bite back any smart remarks that came to her mind. Petty bureaucrats lived for the day where someone decided to make a scene.

"We're residents, sir." Blake handed over her photo card. She'd already pulled down the material obscuring her face and thankfully he didn't ask her to remove her shemagh entirely. Even though Ozpin had massacred thousands of her kind, the Faunus had still come out from Vale appearing the bad guys.

Just as she'd known it would be, the backlash against Faunus right after the fall of Vale had been as severe as it was unjust. Ozpin had set a precedent; all over the world the populations had sought to copy him. Anyone who had even the slightest rumour linking them to the White Fang had been arrested at the best, lynched at the worst. It was likely she was among but a handful of former White Fang members who had survived.

The prejudice still existed but, as the years had passed with the Faunus too scared to even protest for their rights, it had died down somewhat. It was still easier for her to hide her heritage though. Not only would Ozpin be looking for a Faunus huntress, she could do without the associated complications.

"You're hunters right?" It was a redundant question. They'd handed over their licences as well.

"Yes, sir."

"Then you know the drill, get your weapons booked. Other than that everything appears in order." He stamped their papers and gestured them towards another official before looking past them. "Next."

Blake removed Gambol Shroud from her back and laid it on the table. In Airtafae there was no chance of a Grimm breach and, as such, no need for even hunters to carry weapons on the streets. However, unlike the general populace they weren't banned from doing so, theirs just had to be made safe first.

Normally the officials used the yellow wire—stamped with a unique number—to merely ensure that the weapon couldn't transform or be loaded. Gambol Shroud's sharpened sheath presented them with a larger problem. The man made his annoyance at her design obvious as he began winding the wire in an intricate pattern around the entire sheath. It wouldn't stop her using it, but if she did the breakages in the wire would be noticed the next time she left the city.

With their weapons secured they were finally allowed through the checkpoint and into the canyon proper. The walls loomed over them and Blake craned her head upwards. Only the smallest river of clear blue sky was visible above. Occasionally a figure was silhouetted against it, observing to ensure no trouble erupted where the narrow confines could cause tempers to flare.

The passage wasn't exactly crowded, not going by Vale's standards, but there were still more people here than they'd seen in entire days previously. She was a loner by most people's standards, but Blake found herself smiling as she listened in on the idle conversation of the traders with a pack-laden mule in front of her.

As they wound their way back and forth Yang nudged her. "What do you want to do first?"

Blake didn't need time to think about the question; she'd been fantasising about her return to civilization for the past few days. "I'm going to shower until I stop turning the water black, and then I'm going to lie in a nice hot bath until my skin shrivels up. Oh, and I want to eat something warm. You can bring it to me."

"I might just do that," Yang said shooting her a sly grin. Blake blushed as she tried to guess whether Yang was joking or not. Her comment had been an afterthought, but in their current situation Yang might not think twice of interrupting her in the bath.

"Right." Blake decided to treat it as a joke and forced out a laugh. "Or better yet, why don't we go to restaurant? I think we deserve it."

"Now that is a plan. But we should probably get our business out of the way first. Then we can relax."

Blake nodded. They had a couple of outstanding contracts to turn in, and the Falak venom they'd carried all this way would only continue to lose potency and value the longer it was left unrefrigerated.

At the other end of the pass they crossed through a set of metal gates and got their first view of the city in months. It might have been a modern city, but it hadn't lost its heritage. The various satraps who had ruled Airtafae over the centuries had resisted the urge to change what made their city unique.

The floor of the canyon was left mostly empty of permanent structures, and instead windows rose in tiers all around them. The houses here were more comfortable than Blake had originally thought they'd be. Sure there wasn't any natural light in the deeper rooms, but being deep within the rocks walls ensured they stayed cool in the day and warm at night.

Following the natural maze of chasms—carved out by long forgotten rivers—the city had little organised structure. It took them fifteen minutes to walk the district most frequented by hunters, and a further forty to negotiate the best prices from the number of shops located there. They left with their pockets metaphorically weighed down by the money transferred to their cards. The Falak might have come very close to killing her, but they'd made a killing from its venom.

Buoyed by the overall success of their trip the last few hundred metres became easier. Before long they'd ascended the four flights of stairs cut into the cliffs and reached a familiar door. Yang unlocked it and stepped through, dropping her pack to the floor. "Hello. We're back," she called into the darkness beyond.

There was a clatter from a different room and Blake was able to pick up hurried footsteps before a large figure burst into a corridor. "Yang!" Yang might have been six foot of almost pure muscle, but Taiyang made her seem little more than a child as he scooped her up into his arms. Yang completed the image by releasing a high-pitched giggle as she was swung around.

Blake smiled as she watched. The last two years had done wonders for their relationship. As it so often did, the realisation that they could have lost each other in Vale had made them reassess just how they had treated each other. Seeing them together never failed to raise Blake's spirits.

Taiyang lowered her to the ground before hugging her properly and kissing the top of her hair. They stayed that way for perhaps half a minute before he pushed her away. "You stink." His laugh took any real sting from the words.

"Well, unlike some we've been doing proper work. If you weren't so old, I'd say you should try spending a couple of months without seeing more than a cup of water at a time."

"True, true. I'd never be able to keep up with you youngsters. I'm just a frail old man." He put lie to the statement as he picked Yang up again. When he set her down he pushed her to the side and focused on Blake. "It's great to see you too."

Blake inclined her head in the slightest nod. With the given permission Taiyang gave her the same treatment as his daughter. He'd quickly learned that she wasn't always comfortable being touched, but he treated her like family all the same. It had come as surprise to Blake that she did view him as family. She'd long given up the thought of ever recapturing the closeness she'd once had. Taiyang in no way replaced her parents, but he was there for her in all the ways that counted.

"You were gone longer than I thought you would be." With their greetings completed Taiyang led them into the living room.

It was one of the rooms with a window and sunlight streamed through it. They'd been in Airtafae long enough to give it a personal touch. The walls were the standard rose-coloured rock, but the paintings Taiyang had hung gave them character. Yang flopped onto one of the comfortable sofas and Blake followed suit. The act of taking the weight off her feet almost caused her to groan out loud.

"Yeah," Yang admitted, "But you know how it is. You finish one contract and get wind of another. Then before you know it you're in the middle of nowhere chasing the largest Falak you've ever even heard of."

"Now that sounds like a story." Taiyang spoke from the kitchen. "What do you want? Tea, coffee, a beer?" Yang's head snapped around. "They're not mine. Your uncle brought them round."

Yang sat back. "A coffee will be fine." The foundation of their improved resurrected relationship had been Taiyang's abstinence of alcohol. He hadn't drunk since before Vale and he was so much better for it.

"One coffee coming up. Blake?"

"Do you have anything cool?" After baking all day the last thing she wanted to do was warm her body up more.

Taiyang rummaged around in the fridge. "Uhh… iced tea, fruit juice, or some soda."

"The tea please."

"Coming right up." A few moments later he set them down along with a platter of cupcakes. "So…" he said sitting back in a comfortable armchair. "Don't keep me waiting, tell me about that Falak."

Around one of the cakes that Yang had just stuffed into her mouth, she dived into the story, leaving out only the more intimate parts. It was a good one and Blake mainly listened, only offering up the occasional correction when it threatened to get too outlandish. Yang was a fan of embellishment.

Of course, parts of the story only sounded fabricated. Taiyang set down his mug and stared at Blake. "It ate you?"

"A little bit." She could laugh about it now. They both could.

"Damn…" Taiyang appeared genuinely impressed. Then he grinned. "Well that excuses Blake smelling, but not you Yang." Yang scowled at him. "Do you want to jump in the shower?"

"I will." Blake rose. Though she had been looking forward to getting clean, she mostly wanted to give Yang and her dad some time to catch up in private. She left them talking and made her way to the bathroom. Taiyang's flat wasn't enormous, but it was comfortable. Most importantly it gave both her and Yang somewhere to come home to.

When she left the bathroom it was with skin rubbed raw. Her belief had been correct; grime, dust, and dirt had been ground deep into her flesh. Seemingly only after removing the first few layers of her skin had the water stopped turning black on contact. Though, if her skin had been bad, her hair had been worse. A month of near-neglect had ensured it had the apparent texture of dried straw. Even after four separate shampoo and conditioner routines it wasn't much better.

The sensation of not being covered in dirt was good, but being able to step into some actually clean clothes was even better. The cotton was so soft it was almost as if she was wearing nothing at all. Being a huntress had perks, but it had drawbacks as well; the lack of available hygiene was definitely one of them.

Padding into the hallway on calloused feet she paused when she heard the distinctive sound of someone trying to hold back tears. The door to Yang's room was slightly ajar. She'd already showered in her dad's ensuite and was sitting on her bed with a scroll in her lap. She sniffed again.

Blake knocked softly. "Yang?"

Yang wiped her eyes before turning towards her. "Hey. You look pink." Her tone was one of false cheer.

Blake pushed the door open and sat on the bed next to Yang. "Is there still no news?" It was easy for her to deduce why Yang was crying over a scroll. This wasn't the first time this scene had played out.

Yang's face crumpled and she shook her head. The all familiar guilt reared up inside of Blake. It was only because of her that Yang had to live under an assumed identity. If not for that, she could have plastered her name and location all over the internet.

"She's ok Yang."

"How can you know that?" Yang rounded on her.

"I... I can feel it." In all honesty she couldn't. She had no supernatural sense as to whether Ruby was alive or not, but such pragmatism wasn't what Yang needed to hear at this moment. "What do you think? In your gut?"

"…That she's ok."

"Exactly. You need to trust your instincts here. Ruby's strong enough to cope with whatever is thrown at her."

"Yeah but—"

"No  _buts_." Yang definitely did not need to revisit the path of ' _what if?'_  Blake knew from copious amounts of experience that it was entirely futile. "Ruby is ok, and one day there will be a message waiting for you." With a careful thumb Blake wiped away the solitary tear that had escaped onto Yang's cheek. "And no tears either. Do you think your dad wants to see you like this? We should be celebrating."

"You're right. You're right. Just like always." Yang leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Yang's lips had been chafed and split by the harsh winds of the desert, but it didn't lessen the sensation for Blake. It seared through her nerves.

They hadn't really had all that much time to do anything romantic on the road. At the end of the day they'd been too exhausted, and during it they'd had to concentrate on the act of walking. Now they were both clean, and though still tired, they had an opportunity. Blake stared deep into Yang's eyes.

A heavy footfall in the corridor caused them to spring apart guiltily. Just like two teenagers, they looked at anything and everything but each other. Taiyang poked his head around the door. "I've booked the restaurant. I guessed you're both starving so we'll need to leave in about half an hour. And your uncle's just arrived."

Needless to say Qrow was just as thrilled at their safe return as Taiyang had been. Blake had found that he was a very difficult person not to like. He was funny, always had an amusing anecdote prepared, and had a dose of healthy cynicism that she could relate to perfectly.

He might not have given up drinking like Taiyang had, but he'd never visited them while drunk. The only times Blake had seen him like that was whenever he decided they needed to lighten up, and took them on a crawl through the city's bars and pubs.

Of course, Qrow always had a few good-natured jabs ready for his old teammate. He perhaps didn't understand why Taiyang was content teaching at a local school rather than heading out for the occasional thrill. Blake got it though. Taiyang wanted to ensure that he was here. Ensure that should Yang ever need him, he was available. Ensure that Yang, and she supposed by extension her, had a warm home to come back to.

There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it." Blake heaved herself up from the sofa. She was nearest anyway. When she saw who their unexpected guest was it took her a few moments to gather herself. "Raven."

"Good evening Blake." Raven was often overly formal, as if she didn't know how to act otherwise.

"I mean… yeah, good evening." After the very visceral initial impression Raven had made on Blake, it was still weird to see her in civilian attire. The comfortable blue dress and flats just felt out of place with neither garish mask nor sword in sight.

"Is Yang with you?" The question was tentative. Like with the rest of her family, Yang's relationship with her birth mother had improved. Though not quite to the extent it had with her dad or uncle, they at least were trying.

Yang must have overheard for she came abreast of Blake. "She is. Hi Raven." Raven hadn't yet earned the honorific of  _mum_  and Blake doubted she ever would. Some crimes were simply unforgivable. "You're actually lucky you caught us. We only got back from a hunt a couple of hours ago."

"Then I count myself as doubly fortunate. I only arrived in the city this afternoon."

For a moment Yang appeared as if she were going to ask where Raven had been, but she stopped herself. It was a pointless question. Raven only ever gave one answer, 'that it wasn't her place to tell them'. Whatever she did was secretive enough that she often disappeared for weeks or months at a time without a message but in Yang's words, 'At least she comes back.'

"Do you want to come in?" Blake asked. Raven was still standing on their doorstep. It was a fitting metaphor; despite all their efforts Raven hadn't been fully integrated into their lives yet.

"Yes, please."

"No you're not." Qrow brushed past them, set his hands on his sister's shoulders, and spun her around. "We were just about to get something to eat, and you're coming with us."

* * *

 

"I'll tell you what I've never met anyone so self-entitled in my entire life. He actually tried to set the guards on me when I knocked him on his ass for the first time." Blake sipped her wine as she listened to Qrow's latest story. "I mean, what did he think was going to happen? Luckily His Grand Excellency Satrap Aatish, as I was pointedly informed I am always to address him, gave me permission to knock his son on his ass as many times as it takes for him to learn to fight. You know, I thought it would take a month, maybe two. Now I'll be happy if he can swing a sword by the end of the year. I'm not even sure why I'm bothering!"

"Undoubtedly it has something to do with the piles of cash you're being paid," Taiyang said.

"You know what? You might just be right." He, Taiyang, and Yang burst into laughter.

Blake mustered a smile. So did Raven. The two of them had a lot in common. They both had a dark past, they both preferred listening to speaking, and they were both somewhat uncomfortable in social situations. She'd learned to cope and enjoy them, but it didn't appear that Raven had. Or maybe it was just spending an extended period with her daughter. That couldn't have been easy.

If it was ever going to get easier, she would have to continue to suffer through situations like this. A nice restaurant, a few drinks, and a good meal. Unfortunately, being thousands of miles from the sea, there had not been a single fish on the menu, but at least the only option hadn't been goat prepared a hundred and one different ways.

Just being able to chill out and relax was a novel experience. Her stomach was full, her head was swimming pleasantly, and tonight she'd be able to go to sleep with a book. It was at times like these that she realised just how lucky she was. Her life could have gone a completely differently and yet, she was here with people who cared for her.

"So Raven, how long are you in Airtafae for?" Raven jumped when Taiyang said her name. It appeared that her mind had been miles away.

"Umm… A few days, maybe a week. It depends how the negotiations go."

"Negotiations?" Qrow asked, his sister was never this forthcoming.

Raven's eyes widened and she set her almost empty wine glass down. "Please, forget I said anything. It's not—"

"Your place. We know." Qrow finished for her.

Raven blushed. "Look, I don't have a choice."

"It's ok. You don't have to tell us if you can't," Yang spoke up. Though there was undoubtedly an element of truth to her words, Blake knew it wasn't the whole truth. Yang wanted to know what Raven was still involved in just as much as any of them, perhaps more so. At night she'd confided that she was worried that her trust was misplaced. Blake wasn't so sure any longer. Raven had been right about Ozpin. What else did she know?

An uneasy silence descended on the table. The source was obvious. Raven made them all uncomfortable. There was simply too much baggage between them for her not to. A resurrected sibling, a runaway lover, an abandoning mother. Looking in from the outside, Blake was able to see just how messed up they all really were. Not that they were prepared to give up.

"Well," Taiyang continued, "Why don't you tell us about something you can? What have you been doing to enjoy yourself?"

"Umm…" The look on Raven's face was one Blake recognised perfectly. It was one of someone desperately searching the halls of their memory for an activity that they thought others might find interesting. Blake was forced to admit it was another facet of their personality they had in common. Despite her ideal weekend being one where she could curl up with a book and do nothing, it simply wasn't an answer that was socially acceptable.

"Anything?" Qrow prompted.

"I… I went to a concert."

"Really?" Yang couldn't keep the scepticism out of her voice. Frankly it was a thought Blake shared. It would be hard to imagine Raven in the middle of a mosh pit. "Who was playing?"

"The Royal Symphonic Orchestra of Alfurat." That made much more sense for Blake. It also gave them another titbit of information. Raven's travels had taken her to the Vacuan capital.

"Since when did you like classical?" Qrow asked.

"It's something I picked up. In case you haven't noticed, rock died about twenty years ago."

"Too true." Taiyang smiled. "You should hear what these two listen to. And they have the nerve to try and call it music."

"Oh god, please save us your stories of how great everything was in the good old days. Just admit you're too ancient and decrepit to appreciate real talent." Yang stared down her father who only laughed.

"Real talent? Come back to me when they can play something without running it through a computer a dozen times. You might as well just sit there and listen to static from the amps. It's pretty much indistinguishable."

The argument brought Raven a welcome reprieve. It was one she took gratefully, leaning back in her chair, whatever secrets she held protected. Not that she was entirely silent. In music they had found a topic that she could contribute to.

The conversation carried them until after their desserts had been taken away and they were onto their second pot of coffee. The caffeine was the only thing keeping Blake awake. Her eyes were drooping when Taiyang looked at her slyly over his mug.

"So…" he let the word hang in the air. "Have you and Yang got anything to tell us?"

Blake choked on her drink, her fatigue suddenly entirely irrelevant. "What?"

"You know exactly what." If he'd only had suspicions before her reaction confirmed them.

"Really?" Qrow gave them the once over before going back to Taiyang.

"Yep. You should have seen have how they leapt apart when I interrupted them."

"Dad…" Yang put her forehead in her palm.

"So it's true?"

"We… decided to give it a trial run. Not that it's any of your business."

"Fair enough, but can I say one thing?"

"Fine," Yang made the concession through gritted teeth.

"I think I speak for everyone here when I say it's about time. No one could have gone through everything you two have, and stuck together through it, unless they had something special. You need to cherish what you have while you can, because you never know when it will be taken away." His eyes flickered towards Raven for a heartbeat, before he seemed to realise what he'd just said. "Not that I'm saying it's going to end badly, just…"

"We get it dad," Yang saved them all from his bumbling. "And thanks."

"Yeah, thanks," Blake added. She'd never really believed that Taiyang would have a problem should her and Yang's relationship move to the next level, but it had always been a nagging doubt.

Qrow raised his coffee in a toast. "So I guess we are celebrating then. To Yang and Blake. May they have many more successful hunts, both in the desert… and between the sheets."

"Qrow!" Taiyang spluttered. He might have accepted his daughter's choices, but that didn't mean he wanted to go into details. Qrow, entirely lacking of any form of propriety, wiggled his eyebrows.

As much as Blake wanted to curl up and die, she thought again on just how lucky she was to be here, sitting at this table, in a position to be the butt of a lewd joke. They all treated her like family and, even if things didn't work out with Yang, she was sure they wouldn't push her away.

In fact, at that moment, she was probably more like family than Raven was. Even if she raised her cup and smiled, she was on the periphery of the scene—almost like looking through a window. There, but not quite. While she held onto her secrets, there would always be a barrier between her and everyone else. Blake had found that out the hard way.

They got kicked out of the restaurant and into the darkened street by the time-honoured fashion of their waiter asking if they desired the bill while the rest of the staff started stacking chairs. The coffee had helped somewhat, but Blake was still a little unsteady on her feet. Without realising it she'd really indulged herself on the wine.

They all had, and they'd all come to the same realisation when they'd seen the bill. The restaurant Taiyang had picked had not been cheap. Despite the price they'd all insisted on paying for it. Taiyang and Qrow had wanted to treat them, she and Yang wanted to spend some of their hard-earned lien on what really mattered, but it was Raven who had settled the argument, merely stalking off to the register. Whatever her job was, it obviously paid well.

They'd stayed until well after most other establishments had closed, only a handful of windows remained lit showcasing elaborate handbags from the catwalks of Dione and the latest must-have gadgets. Despite the rose walls of the canyons rising around them, the customary chill of the desert at night had returned. Perhaps not to the extent that they'd experienced it, but enough that Blake was thankful for her embroidered headscarf. She hadn't had a religious revelation, it was just a convenient way to hide her ears from sight.

"Have you got somewhere to stay Raven?" Qrow asked.

"Yes thank you. Though I would like to walk you all home."

Qrow laughed. "You think we'll get into trouble without you?"

"No." Raven turned her head away and looked down what surpassed for a street in Airtafae. "It's just been a pleasant night."

_And she didn't want it to end_. That was what Blake took away. She had to wonder just how many times Raven got to do something like this. Go out for a meal, a drink, just talk. After what she'd done to Yang, Blake never should have felt sorry for her, but she did. She very much doubted Raven had any friends at all.

"We should definitely do it again if you have time before you leave," Taiyang said. "Shouldn't we Yang?"

Yang didn't take long to answer. She would have enjoyed the evening anyway, but it had given her another opportunity to find out just a little more about Raven. "Definitely, it's been fun."

The simple statement couldn't have meant more to Raven. Her eyes glittered and she started away to hide the tears. As a group they descended from the terrace of restaurants and shops to the floor of the canyon. With an ever growing population Airtafae, had been forced to grow up rather than out. Most of the city only had two or three levels of buildings carved into the walls, other parts had far more.

Like the rest of the world, the density of the population almost perfectly correlated with wealth. Taiyang's flat wasn't in the most expensive part of the city, but his steady job, coupled with a portion of what the two of them earned, meant that it wasn't in the cheapest either.

Vacating what would be referred to as the  _downtown_  district in other cities, the number of people they saw dropped dramatically. One of the things that Blake noticed living here was that the nightlife was close to non-existent. The intolerable heat in the middle of the day meant that most jobs started before dawn and took an extended lunch.

In the midst of her mind wandering Blake's ears swivelled beneath her headscarf. "Did you hear that?"

Yang looked around from her conversation with Qrow. "What?"

"I … nothing." She would have thought she'd had too much to drink, if not for the fact Raven's body had tensed up. Blake moved forward to walk next to her. "Did you?"

Raven replied with a finger on the lips. Everyone else came to a stop and stared at the pair of them. Blake heard it again. A quiet but high-pitched sound. Almost like a muffled shriek. It might have been barely audible, but while actively listening for it she'd managed to pick up a direction.

"It came from over there." Raven nodded her agreement.

Blake ran towards the source. It wasn't easy for even her to pinpoint. The noise echoed from the maze of rock. They'd passed into one of the cheaper living areas and small dwellings rose up above them. Blake charged past the doors, heedless if she woke the occupants within. Her sole focus was listening for the disturbance again.

She skidded on the floor as she rounded a corner into a chasm that only had doors on one side. Most of them were broken or boarded up. Right up at the far end, in the gloom away from the lit street behind her, two figures grappled in the shadows.

It wasn't much of a contest. One was tall and muscular. The other was small, barely more than a child. She was wearing a blue dress and fighting to free herself of the hand over her mouth. The teenager dragged her towards one of the abandoned buildings.

"Hey!" Blake shouted putting on a fresh burst of speed. The teenager looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of her and Raven sprinting towards him. He pushed the girl away and she stumbled in the dirt. Trusting Raven to deal with the aggressor Blake caught her before she fell.

The girl trembled against her, her pigtails shaking with fear. "You're going to be ok. He's not going to be able to hurt you any longer." She didn't think the girl believed her. She was terrified.

Raven hadn't attacked the teenager. What struck Blake most was the complete lack of fear in his stance. Interrupted by a group of five in the middle of an attempted rape of a child, she would have expected him to be cowering away from vigilante justice. Instead he just stood impassively ten feet from them.

The reason for his demeanour became apparent a moment later. Another figure in dark clothes stepped from one of the seemingly abandoned buildings trapping them in the alley. So he had a friend, no wonder he didn't seem afraid.

The pair of them made a very large misjudgement though. They saw five people. One large guy who would be a problem, a skinnier guy who might be, and three women. In the dresses and shirts suitable for a fancy restaurant they didn't seem like much. There was no way their attackers could have known they were sharing the alley with five hunters. They were in for a shock.

Taiyang turned to face the one behind him. "I'm going to give you a chance. Leave or you're going to get hurt." Taiyang's voice was deep enough the ground almost seemed to shake.

If the threat had any effect on their ambushers they showed no reaction. In fact the pair of them seemed almost emotionless.

"Blake," Raven said in a deliberately calm voice, "Step away from her."

_What?_ Blake looked down the girl she was cradling. Now she looked more closely she noticed that the terror on her face entirely failed to make it all the way to her sapphire eyes. The next thing she knew she was landing in a crumpled heap a dozen feet away, her vision flaring with the white of agony.

Someone might have called her name. She couldn't be sure. Gingerly her hand probed her side. One… two broken ribs. She'd had more than enough experience to recognise that delightful pain. It didn't seem possible, but Raven's warning had saved her. She'd caught the movement of the girl's arm the instant before she's struck. Her Aura had flared instinctively. Without it Blake had no doubt she'd be dead.

Someone shook her. Her vision wasn't clear, but she knew it was Yang. She ignored the questions about her state. "Help me up," she growled. It hurt so much she could barely think, but she knew the worst place to be in a fight was immobile on the ground.

The little girl who'd catapulted her through the air with a single palm had retreated to stand next to her  _attacker_. Her façade of terror had been replaced by cool neutrality.

"Her presence was not foreseen." The girl's voice was as high-pitched as her shrieks had been. They were staring at Raven.

"No." Her  _attacker_ answered.

"Does that mean?" The one behind Blake spoke.

"Most likely." It was almost as if they were sharing more information than the mere words conveyed.

"She…"

"…is here." The girl finished the other's sentence.

"Do we proceed?"

"Yes."

The nuances of what they were talking about were beyond Blake in her pain filled state, but she'd deduced what they were and Yang had as well. "Tinmen," she whispered under her breath.

Cold dread sank into Blake's stomach. She'd always known this day would come. Ever since she'd seen her picture on the news. Throughout all of her time at Beacon she'd been right under Ozpin's nose. He'd known that some part of her backstory wasn't true, but she'd always been able to deceive him, lie straight to his face. After his massacre of the White Fang she was one of the last. He wouldn't be content merely to arrest her. If he couldn't have her, a death in an alley would likely be sufficient, and who would carry it out but his enforcers?

She hadn't even believed that the imaginary line on the border with Vacuo would provide her refuge. Some might have thought it not worth causing a diplomatic incident to hunt down a fugitive, but she wasn't just a fugitive. By tricking Ozpin she'd made it personal. Pride was a cruel master, and cruellest amongst those with absolute power.

She couldn't fight them. She was good, but they were better. The shaky videos online had failed to reveal a weakness, a way of fighting them off, winning, and to her knowledge, no one had managed it. There was only one way they were going to get out of this alive.

"I'm going to draw them away. You need to run." Of course Blake harboured no suspicions about her ability to lose them in her current state. She only hoped to buy the others enough time.

Yang's grip on her upper arm tightened until the fingers were rigid points of additional pain. "You promised!"

Blake had the sudden realisation of what Yang was referring to. She had promised, and this time she'd actually meant it. But that was before they'd landed in this scenario all because of her. She would willingly give her life if it meant Yang survived, but Yang was also right. She had to try to keep it, at least before it was necessary to break it. "I'm sorry." She didn't pull away, but she also hadn't relaxed her stance.

"You will be when we get through this."

"Yang, stay behind me." Taiyang had closed in on them, shielding them with his bulk.

"Are any of you armed?" Raven didn't bother to whisper. The Tinmen would have heard it anyway.

The question only compounded Blake's feeling of stupidity. She'd thought she was safe in the city. Gambol Shroud was leant against the wall in her room. She didn't even have a knife strapped to her arm. All the lessons she'd learned in the White Fang about being prepared at every instant had been forgotten. It brought her little solace that no one answered in the affirmative.

"Then I'll take the two in front. We can't let them leave here. Qrow, Tai, try and hold up the other one. They aren't invincible. I promise you that." Her tone was dark, leaving them to guess just how she knew. Raven might have sounded calm, but she wasn't armed either.

"Where is she?" The girl asked.

"You won't find out," Raven hissed leaping forwards. A black and red portal flashed into existence, and Raven thrust her arm through it, withdrawing it a moment later with a long sheath in her hand. A crimson blade flared into existence, a dull light in the alley.

Raven may have been fast, she might have summoned her weapon and attacked in an instant, but the Tinmen were faster. The girl leapt away from the strike that would have decapitated her as the panels on her back swung open. Floating swords flew out, spinning in the air and launching themselves at Raven. Fire erupted where they were parried.

Taiyang's arm knocked both Blake and Yang away and to the ground. The impact was not kind on her ribs, but Blake managed to carry some of her momentum and roll to her feet. The two blades that had only just missed them reverted in their course and speared straight towards her.

Her Shadow died horribly as she reappeared a few feet away. With a roar Taiyang threw both his fists at the ground. Rather than rebound they plunged straight into the stone. A moment later he rushed at the Tinman, his arms covered in a layer of the red rock the city was known for.

With his impromptu gauntlets he batted a sword away and threw a jab at the Tinman's face. He wasn't even close to being fast enough. The Tinman dodged his blows effortlessly, and returned his attack in kind. The half dozen blades were too numerous and too fast for Taiyang to block. They were mere flashes in the street as they bounced from his Aura. Only pure strength of will kept him on his feet and the Tinman away from his daughter.

He couldn't manage much, but he could manage more than Qrow. No birds roamed this deep in the desert and his lithe form didn't have the raw strength of his old partner's. He might have been unarmed, but he wasn't a coward. He ran in and at least tried to be a nuisance. It didn't work. One Tinman was more than a match for the pair of them. Despite the precariousness of the situation their protective instincts remained. Taiyang twisted and turned, keeping himself between the Tinman and his daughter. It wouldn't have made much of difference even had he allowed her to fight. Unarmed as they were the Tinman was a match for all of them.

They were just lucky that the other pair was concentrating on Raven. There was something truly terrifying about seeing such a young girl involved in such an act of barbarity without showing the slightest hint of emotion. Not battlelust, not horror, not enjoyment, and not fear. Absolutely nothing marred her face, no matter how close Raven's blades came or even sank in. Armed with a weapon she at least was giving as good as she got.

The alleyway was chaos. Dozens of swords flew through the air, pulses of lasers melting rock. Raven fought furiously, barely more than a flicker as she dived in and out of portals trying to strike the Tinmen. It wasn't working. Blood matted her dress, the thin material hanging limp from a rent in its side. Only a few shallow silver scores marked where Raven's attacks had been successful.

Blake knew they couldn't win here. She could barely breathe through her broken ribs, and even armed she doubted she could have bested one of the Tinmen. They were designed and engineered for combat. Even Raven seemed inferior to them.

The promise she'd made Yang floated through her mind, taunting her. In that exact moment she knew she had to break it. The two Tinmen in front were focusing on Raven, but the other was still trying to kill her. His blades flying towards her whenever they managed to get past her three defenders. He would follow her if she ran. She could at least give Yang and the others a chance at life.

Raven cried out as a sword sank home, lasers flashed into her limbs, burning her flesh dark. She stumbled backwards, her legs unsteady and her fair skin matted with blood. She threw out an arm and a portal flared into life. "Run!" Raven shouted with the last of her strength.

Taiyang and Qrow didn't need a second invitation. They were both veterans and weren't too proud to admit that there were some battles that simply couldn't be won. Taiyang threw Raven over his shoulder and leapt through the portal. Qrow grabbed Blake roughly by the arm and dragged her and Yang through a heartbeat later.

Blake's stomach flipped over and her eyes tried to adjust the sudden brightness. The portal collapsed, but not fast enough. Three figures jumped through, the last diving through a hole barely larger than her hips. She rolled to her feet, her swords in position at her back.

Their escape had carried them into a large room, but it wasn't enough. Raven leant heavily on Taiyang, Blake could barely stand, and the rest weren't much better. She knew they were done for. The Tinmen looked over them, deciding who to finish first. Blake gritted her teeth. The one thing she was sure about was that she wouldn't die on her knees.

The soft humming from the floating blades intensified and they shot forwards. They hissed straight past Blake and towards the other side of the room. Incandescent light flared, searing Blake's retina. Through it all she witnessed the swarm of swords get disdainfully slapped aside.

A figure stepped through the fire and the smoke. Her red dress aflame, her raven hair streaming out behind her. The woman raised her hands. The two nearest Tinmen staggered backwards, tendrils of magma wrapping around them, burning through the synthetic flesh and slicing into the bodies beyond.

Only the girl remained. The woman gave her no chance to surrender. An inferno hotter than any before surged into life. The carpet burned, the curtains caught alight, and Blake's clothes and hair smouldered. Her primal fear of fire took precedence in her mind. She cowered away from the conflagration. The woman didn't. She stared at what she was doing and there wasn't a trace of pity on her face. Only an intensity of fury that Blake had never witnessed in her life.

The crackling roar ceased and, of the girl, only molten liquid remained. The woman closed her fist and all the fires in the room were quenched in an instant. She turned towards the last of the intruders, her skin glowing bright white, and Blake felt the full force of her rage. It was almost a physical thing. She'd known dangerous people in her life, deranged people, but never before one had caused her heart to stop with a look. It was as if the weight of presence transcended that of a mere mortal. Blake recognised her of course, after what the display of power she'd seen in the fall of Vale, she'd never forget.

Cinder's gaze lingered on all of them, before coming to settle on Raven. "What is this meaning of this?"

Raven looked at her before giving a small helpless laugh. With blood dribbling down her chin she turned towards her daughter.

"Yang, meet your grandmother."

 


	12. Chapter 12

"What?" Yang mouthed. She'd escaped from the fight with the Tinmen relatively unharmed compared to the others, but right at this moment it was as if she'd just been blindsided by a haymaker. Her mind was simply unable to process the import behind the few simple words.

"She's your grandmother. My mother."

"What?" Yang was entirely unable to believe that the statement made any sense whatsoever.

A figure rushed in as the door at the far side of the room was thrust open, slamming into the wall. Her long dark legs were exposed beneath the thin nightgown, and in her hands were a pair of pistols. The slapping of her feet on the marble slowed as she took in the scene before her.

"Emerald, cease creating a racket." Cinder unleashed some of her fury and Emerald wilted beneath it.

"I thought you needed ̶ ̶ "

"As if I would need help," Cinder spat. "And put those away."

Emerald lowered the pistols but, dressed in her sleepwear, she could only let them hang loosely from her hands. Her nostrils flared in an attempt to contain her emotions.

"Ahh… Mercury. Late as usual." Cinder directed her remarks to the man who'd just sidled in through the door. He looked around, his gaze lingering on Blake and Yang, before turning back to Cinder.

"I don't get paid enough to leap out of bed at the slightest disturbance. And anyway, I had to let Emerald have the chance to kiss your ass first."

The amber lines of Cinder's dress flared and Mercury's eyes widened. "Tonight is neither the time nor place for your insolence. Go and make yourself useful and ensure that we are not disturbed." Mercury didn't move. "Now!" He was too proud to run, but he made a hasty exit from the room, fleeing the waves of pent-up violence that were roiling through the air.

"Emerald, clean those up." Cinder gestured at the toxic puddles of molten and half-melted pieces that had been the Tinmen. "We don't need any of the complications that would arise if a servant stumbled across them."

Emerald nodded silently, but there were still lines around her eyes as if she were trying her best not to cry. Cinder stepped closer, only stopping when their bodies were separated by mere inches. Any trace of anger disappeared from her face. She raised a palm and cupped Emerald's cheek, looking deep into her eyes. "Can you do this? For me?" Her voice smouldered.

"Ye… Yes." No one missed how rapidly her chest rose and fell beneath the thin silk.

"Thank you." Emerald just stood there. "If you could get started…"

"Oh… of course. I'll get right on it. May… may I get changed first?"

"You may, but hurry." With that Emerald almost sprinted from the room, only too eager to please. Cinder turned back towards the rest of them, throwing away the mask of love and compassion, leaving nothing in her expression. She was just as emotionless as the robots she'd slain.

"I will ask you once more, what is the meaning of this? Why did you bring these people here?"

"I needed your help," Raven said.

"Evidently." A foul smell rose from the ruined Tinmen. "But you should not have. I take it you're wounds are merely superficial?"

Though her expression was scrunched in pain and she held a hand tight against her side, Raven nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Now ̶ ̶ "

"Didn't you hear? This is Yang."

"I heard. And I thought we were clear as to why this was a bad idea."

"We were, but I didn't have a choice. This was my only option."

"It was not."

"Mother, she's your granddaughter."

"What the hell are you on about?" Yang found her voice. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was ludicrous.

Raven stood between the two of them, torn in half. "Yang this is Cinder my mo ̶ ̶ "

"She can't be!"

"Yang, I know it's hard to understand, but I'm telling you the truth."

"Look at her!" Yang thrust out her arm. "She's barely out of school."

"I know I sound crazy."

"You're damn right you do." Qrow stalked forwards, half his face drenched in blood from a cut on his scalp. "You're my sister. My  _twin_  sister. And I've never seen her before in my life. Have you been hit in the head? Have you forgotten mum and dad?"

"Of course I haven't," Raven exclaimed before softening her voice. "Qrow, I am your sister," she took a breath, "But I'm not your twin. We're not related by blood. I'm adopted."

"What are you talking about?"

"Dad told me. Just before… you know. A year after you were born they found me on their doorstep. Dad said the moment they saw me they knew they wouldn't be able to give me up." Raven smiled. "We were almost the same age. They decided to raise us as twins."

"But… you can't."

"Don't you think it was suspicious that they only had pictures of you as a baby? That they lost all the photos I was in before I turned one? That there was never a photo of us together in a crib? It's because they never existed." Her voice fell. A hint of desperation entering her tone as she willed him to believe her. "I wasn't there. Why would I make this up?"

Qrow stared, mouth agape. "I don't know. But why haven't told me before now? You've had years."

"Because I'm a coward! Because I've always been a coward. I didn't want it to change anything between us."

"And it wouldn't have." Qrow set his blood-stained hand on her shoulder. "Nothing could change the fact you're my sister. I think we've discovered that by now. I deserved to know. So did everyone." Qrow's eyes flicked momentarily to Yang.

Raven looked at the ground. "I know."

"I want to believe you, but I can't. Yang's right." He gestured at Cinder. "She's younger than you are."

"I do not appreciate being talked about as if I am not here."

"Fine then." Qrow approached Cinder. "I appreciate the assist and all. Pretty damn impressive actually. I would never have expected it from a pretty thing like you."

"Qrow…" Raven warned as Cinder spoke.

"I will grant you leniency as you are close to Raven, but do not dare take that tone with me again."

"Or wh ̶ ̶ "

A light flared into existence and Qrow's head snapped around. He fell to his knees. A thin red line drawn across his face.

"Mother!" Raven rushed to her brother, putting herself between them.

Cinder didn't show a hint of remorse. "I warned him. He is lucky he is still breathing. You two get back to work," she snapped towards Mercury and Emerald who had paused while shovelling goo into a container.

"I'm fine." Qrow heaved himself to his feet with a shake to clear his head. "I'm not scared of her."

"Then you are a fool."

"Please, Qrow, don't."

"No," Qrow pushed Raven aside. "I'm going to say what I need to." He faced Cinder down again. "I don't know how you've managed to put these lies in my sister's head, but it stops now. I'm taking her away from here, and you're never going to see her again."

"They are not lies. Raven is my daughter."

"I reiterate, she's older than you. Don't tell me I have to have the talk with you? When a mummy and daddy love each other very much ̶ ̶ " This time Raven bodily interceded the precipice of violence.

"Qrow, it's not that simple. She's older than she looks. Like Ozpin." Cinder's face twitched at the name. "Don't you think I had a hard time believing it? But I know it's true."

"None of this makes sense."

"No it doesn't. But we're here. She's my mother, and Yang's grandmother."

Since the time she had saved them in Vale, Yang had always been aware that Raven wasn't entirely sane. That the logic that guided her reasoning had been flawed, but Yang could never have imagined anything of this scale. Raven was obviously crazy, and yet… Ozpin didn't age. He looked the same in every photo she'd ever seen of him. And Cinder was his peer in skill if nothing else. The idea was insanity of the highest order, but the world was insane these days.

"How do you know?" Yang asked.

"We've done tests. They were conclusive. Plus I just do. There's a connection, don't you feel it?"

Yang looked at Cinder. Properly looked. Trying to discount her face… Her smooth complexion... Instead trying to penetrate beyond them, seeing the person underneath.

It was impossible.

Yang experienced no revelation, no sudden understanding. The only emotion she felt was disgust. If what Raven said was true, then she was related to someone responsible for the deaths of thousands.

It had been hard enough trying to reconcile the Raven she'd come to sporadically know over the last two years with the same person who'd been involved with the plot to overthrow Vale. She hadn't managed it. The only way she'd been able to cope was to tell herself that Raven had only been following orders, unaware of the entirety of the plan.

She couldn't do that here. There could have been no conclusion other than that Cinder, her  _grandmother,_ had been the one giving the orders. She exuded a complete aura of control. She had planned it all. The Knights, the Grimm, the White Fang, all in pursuit of a noble goal that Raven had only haltingly tried to justify. Yang felt sick to her stomach.

Raven misinterpreted the expression on her face. "Yang look at her. Look at her Semblance. It's like yours." Apparently willing to humour her  _daughter_ , Cinder allowed a wave of fire to roll through her raven locks.

Yang turned away. She couldn't face this. It hurt too much. Emerald and Mercury had finished their cleaning again were just staring at her. It had been a surprise to see them again after all this time, but not much of one. Torchwick had told her they'd been Cinder's.

Their motivations were easy to understand. In the few talks she'd had with Mercury, he'd always been cold, aloof. Greed and power were likely all he cared about. Emerald's motivations were even easier. Just the brief interaction between her and Cinder was enough to show she was head over heels in love with her. Yang had no doubt that as long as it were Cinder asking, Emerald would do anything for her.

"Yang?" Yang could only shake her head. "Don't you believe me?"

"It doesn't matter," Cinder spoke up. "Her belief, or lack of it, will not change what is fact. You are my daughter, she is yours. What conclusions she draws from that are her own. The same applies to rest of you. I will not waste any more time or effort attempting to convince you. Emerald, Mercury, put the boxes with rest of our luggage, and then clear the room."

"Don't you want us here?" Mercury asked.

"If I desired for you to be here I would have asked you stay. Leave." After the doors swung shut, Cinder turned to Raven. "Explain yourself. Have you compromised us?"

"I… I don't think so. There were only the three of them, and no one else saw."

"You had better hope that is the case." The threat was clear. "How did they find you?"

"We were walking back from a restaurant and they'd set a trap for us."

"So they knew you were coming?"

"No. They seemed surprised I was there. The ambush wasn't for me."

"Then…" Cinder's gaze lingered on Blake who had so far gone mostly unnoticed. "Ahh, the Faunus."

"Blake," Yang corrected.

"Blake," Cinder conceded. "Blake Belladonna. Don't look surprised. I know all about you Yang, and those who you associate with." Cinder crossed the room and lifted Blake's chin with a slender finger until she could look into her eyes. To Yang it was apparent that Blake was attempting to conceal her injured ribs, trying to present herself as stronger than she really was. Trying not to look like prey before the ultimate predator. "I only wish that I could have seen his face when he realised you'd been lying to him since the beginning. He was never able to handle being wrong. It's no wonder he wants to kill you." Cinder smirked. "You seem to have that effect on men. Half the time Adam wanted your head as well. When he wasn't pining over you at least..."

Blake's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "Don't mention him."

Yang could have sworn that she saw the fires roaring behind Cinder's eyes. When she spoke it was in a tone that was entirely detached, and all the more dangerous because of it. "I am going to give you all this warning only once. You do not give me commands." Qrow gave a grunt as Raven kicked him just as he opened his mouth. "The next person to try and give me an order, or to make a smart comment, will regret it." She turned her attention back to Blake a finger still on her chin. "As for you, I fear that you will find that Airtafae is no longer safe. He has your scent now, and even national sovereignty did not stay his hand. I would suggest that you disappear post-haste."

"She's not going anywhere," Yang only just managed to rein in her shout. The Tinmen might have been there for Blake, and almost killed the rest of them in the crossfire, but she wouldn't allow Blake to try and leave on her own again. "She's staying with us, and we're going to sort this out together."

"If that is what you desire, so be it. But I will not be here to save you next time. And he will not take this failure lightly."

"Wait, wait," Taiyang spoke up sounding exasperated. "I'm… entirely lost. So let me try and get this clear. You're Raven's birth mother? Despite being young enough to be her daughter. And this 'he' you keep speaking about is… Ozpin? Just how are you two involved with each other?"

Cinder glanced at Raven. "How much do they know?"

"Nothing. I haven't told them anything. Just like you said."

"Yes. The condition I set down when you asked to visit them was that you reveal nothing. Yet here I stand, in the middle of the palace, with the remnants of Tinmen on the floor." Raven looked away, the chastisement in the words was clear. Cinder sighed. "Can they be trusted?"

"Of course, they're family," Raven answered instinctively.

"When you have seen as much as I have, you will learn that familial bonds ultimately mean nothing when compared to the sins of mankind. Regardless, she is not your family." Her finger extended towards Blake. "Do you trust her?"

This time Raven wasn't so quick to answer, but Yang was. "Yes. I trust her with my life."

"And it may be on your life. Blake has betrayed her ideals twice. Once when joining the White Fang, and once when leaving it. Who is to say there will not be a third time?"

At this moment, Yang didn't care in the slightest about who Cinder was because she didn't have a clue what she was talking about. Blake's initiation into the White Fang had been a sordid manipulation built around grief and anger. No blame lay at her door. And when she'd left it, she hadn't betrayed anything. Instead she'd been true to the person she really was.

"I say it. I trust Blake," Yang left no room for misinterpretation and, with the declaration, Blake stood up just a little bit straighter.

Cinder smirked. "Very well. I will bring you all into my confidence. You could say that Ozpin and I were at one time… associates."

"Were?" Yang asked. Ever since seeing Ozpin fight the mysterious woman she'd wanted answers. Ozpin himself hadn't been forthcoming, but now she had the opportunity to get some.

"We had a falling out." Cinder's brow darkened and malice seeped into her tone. "When he had his hunters stab me and murder my husband. Their next target would have been your mother in her crib. I have forgiven him for countless infractions, but I could not for this one."

"Ozpin did that?"

"Yes. The Ozpin you undoubtedly thought you knew at Beacon, was only one facet of his personality. What he is now, shows the truth of him. He has always been a power hungry tyrant held in check by the will of those around him. He tried to eliminate me, and now he has cast all chains aside. If he is allowed to fulfil his ambitions unopposed, he will not stop until the entire world has fallen under his rule."

"Always been?" Qrow asked.

"I am older than I look. So is he."

"Just how old are you?" Taiyang put aside social conventions to ask the question they all wanted the answered.

"It is pointless to tell you because you will not believe me. But let me say that I have witnessed the rise of dictators first hand."

Cinder had been right, Yang couldn't believe. The last dictator the world had seen was in the Great War. Surely she wasn't suggesting that she'd been alive then. That would make her eighty at least, and only if she'd been an infant. Yet, by appearances alone, Yang would have guessed she was only a couple of years older than her.

"Why don't you try us?" Taiyang continued. "Give us a number."

"I can't. I was born in a city, to a calendar, that no longer exists."

"That's impossible."

"No, it is simply improbable. I have lived a long life. I have watched man crawl from the dirt. I watched as nomadic tribes settled, prospered, and stagnated. I have seen empires rise, carve their way across the land, and ultimately fall to the foe that the sword cannot touch. Time. I speak languages of people whose name appears in no history book. I have guided mankind through the ages, ensuring their survival, so that ultimately we have reached this moment, standing in this room."

"It can't be. You make it sound as if you're a god."

"And I have been worshipped as one in the past. Is it really so far-fetched? What is your definition for one? I have watched the birth and death of civilizations. I wield powers beyond your reckoning. I was born, and then I transcended to how I exist now."

They were the ravings of madwoman. Someone who had entirely passed beyond the realms of sanity. Yang couldn't believe what she was hearing. Sure, Cinder was one of the strongest people she'd ever seen, but a living god? It was ludicrous. And yet, there was no outright derision. Raven stood calmly as if she'd heard it all before, Qrow's mouth hung open, her dad appeared as if he were trying to wrap his head around it; Blake the most cynical of them all, looked pensive, almost as if she were considering it.

"You can't be serious," Yang blurted out. "I mean, this is crazy, all of it. You're not buying into this crap are you?" She looked around for support, but no one spoke up.

"It's all true Yang," Raven said.

"It can't be. It just… can't." Yang was unable to articulate any of the obvious thoughts as to why it was impossible.

"How can I convince you?" Cinder asked. "Shall I tell you of the fall of Elysion? Shall I describe the armour of the troops of Kirandor, or how they Grimm assaulted the city in their wake? Or shall I describe the festivals held in the great city of Calakmul? The music, the ritual dances, the sacrifices? Or would you prefer a time within the pages of recorded history? Do you wish to hear the origins and end of the Great War from one who was there throughout it all? Name your period of history and I most likely had a hand in it."

"But…" Yang hadn't even heard of half the names mentioned.

"Or perhaps you need a more visceral demonstration..." Something about her tone filled Yang with dread.

Cinder reached down and dug a nail into the embroidery of her dress. When she raised her hand she had a tiny sliver of crystal between her fingers. "Red Dust, barely enough to power your scroll for more than a few minutes."

The crystal flared to life and almost within an instant it was consumed. A small ball of red and orange fire barely larger than a coin in diameter hovered above her open palm. "Impressive, no? Only a handful of hunters in the world could be this efficient. I don't count myself among them."

The fireball grew larger, flames licking out from it, until it was the size of a fist. The lines of Cinder's dress remained amber, inert. She wasn't drawing the power for her display from them. It didn't make sense. Yang had known some prodigies of Dustcraft, and she been forced to learn the basic theories even if she would never be able to apply them herself. Dust crystals conformed to the universal law of the conservation of energy. It was impossible to get more energy out of Dust crystals than had been stored in their creation, not to mention the inherent inefficiencies. A crystal the size Cinder had used should have barely caused a hot updraft. Not this.

"Still not convinced?"

The fireball began to crackle, and then it began to roar. It remained the size of a fist, but the hue of the flames transitioned to blue. Just beneath the surface of Cinder's skin white lights glowed in an intricate pattern. The fireball became a sphere of pure brightness. Yang threw up her arm and stumbled back. The heat blossoming from it made the desert seem a fridge. She could feel her skin reddening.

"It will melt sand to glass." Cinder rotated her hand around the hovering ball. The heat from it didn't seem to bother her at all. "If I drop it will burn straight through the floor and every one underneath. I can't rightly guess how far it would travel before dissipating. I could power Airtafae for a day or more. All from that single tiny crystal. Tell me it's impossible. That I'm lying to you."

Yang squinted past her arm. The fireball appeared to be a miniature sun. Its light speared into her eyes. Its surface was blue tinged with white, but Cinder's skin was pure alabaster. The lights glowing from beneath it were somehow more intense. In that exact moment, her outline silhouetted by the brightness, a sun held in her hand, Cinder appeared a figure out of legend, myth. She appeared exactly what she claimed to be. A god walking amongst them.

Cinder had been watching her intently and saw the moment the realisation hit her. Impossibly she closed her fingers around the sphere that would have incinerated stone. The lights beneath her skin intensified before darkness reclaimed the room. It wasn't actually dark, the lights were all still on, but all of their retinas had been seared by the demonstration. Yang could only see shadows. Cinder's glow faded away.

"I hope that convinced the rest of you as well. Every word I have spoken is true." She let her statement sink in.

Yang was grateful for the respite. Her thoughts were a shaken mess after the display of pure power. She didn't truly know if Cinder was a god, but she certainly wasn't simply human. That much had been made plain.

No one else seemed able to speak either. They all wore expressions varying from awe to downright fear. It was an emotion that rose in Yang as Cinder stalked towards her, a chime clinking on her ankle.

"Yang, I gave birth to your mother in a small hut in the middle of a forest in Vale. You are my blood. As I once did to Raven, I gifted you with the protection of separation and ignorance. With you standing here that protection is no more. You now have a choice, just like your mother once did, whether you wish to be a part of this war, or if you desire to run and never look back. I cannot make that choice nor influence you, and neither can anyone else. It is yours and yours alone to make. For it is you who will have to live with the consequences."

A war. After watching the massacre of Vale Yang had wanted no part in war ever again. She had left determined to forge life on her own terms. Only the world hadn't been so eager to let her go. She was a criminal in her own country, possibly facing the death penalty for doing what was right. She had to scrape past, agreeing to the most gruelling hunts in this far flung corner of the world, just to try and stay safe. It hadn't worked. Ozpin's agents had found her, found Blake. Cinder might have believed she'd been protected from the war, but she hadn't. She'd been living on its side-lines all this time. The whole world had been.

By saying yes she could keep Blake safe. Cinder could handle whatever Ozpin threw at her. The Tinmen had been tossed aside as if they were nothing. If only it was that simple. Yang was unable to forget just what had changed the balance of power in the world in the first place. Ozpin's massacre had only been in answer to the one perpetrated by the woman standing in front of her. It made sense really. She didn't know just how long Cinder and Ozpin had actually lived for, but the lives of the rest of them must seem like flickering candles, snuffed out with the smallest breeze, entirely inconsequential. Only chess pieces to be played on the board.

"The two of you deserve each other."

"Excuse me?"

"You and Ozpin. You've played these games for so long you don't see the consequences of them. Ozpin did something terrible to you. I understand. You wanted revenge, justice, whatever. You should have gone to him, fought him like anyone else would have if the police couldn't help. Instead you tore apart an entire fucking city." Yang's anguish ripped out from her. "All for what? What possible reason could you have had, because he got away. You didn't even manage to kill him! And don't give me some bullshit reason like doing it for the Faunus. If you really cared about them you wouldn't have fled the city! And don't get me started on ̶ ̶ "

Yang's vision whited out as agony overwhelmed her. Her face burned. She fell to her knees, hands clawing at the phantom flames. She couldn't even scream. A shoe squeaked, someone shouted, something thumped to the floor. Yang forced her eyes open. She expected to see her hands covered in blood, her flesh hanging off. They were clean. The agony in the nerves had vanished, leaving only a lingering ache.

"I gave you a warning. It would pay to heed it."

Yang spat on the marble. She didn't know just what Cinder had done to her, but it ranked amongst the most painful experiences of her entire life. It had felt as if she'd been flayed. The only response she could muster was fear. She was a mortal cowed by god. Right up until the point where her gaze landed on Blake, also crumpled on the floor and moaning softly, one hand holding her broken ribs, the other clutching her eyes. Yang's anger rose like a tempest overriding all of her body's other feelings. She hauled herself to her feet.

"I suppose that's what I should have expected? What both of you do. If people don't bow down to you, you make them. You say Ozpin is a tyrant, I see nothing different in you. You both choose to rule through fear. You can't even accept me questioning you. What do you do when someone disobeys you? Kill them, torture them? Go on, give me your best shot. I can take it."

Yang had passed entirely beyond reason. She didn't care that Cinder's  _warning_  had bypassed her Aura almost as if it wasn't there, or that Cinder had killed three Tinmen without breaking a sweat. Her anger had burned all logical thoughts from her mind and turned her eyes red.

She found herself staring into a mirror. "Calm down." Raven grasped her upper arms in a strong grip. "You need to calm down. Look at me. Look at me!" Raven found that telling an enraged person to calm down did not yield results. Yang bucked from her.

It was another voice that managed to penetrate through the depths of her rage. "Yang, stop," Blake said breathlessly, climbing to her feet. The red on the edges of Yang's vision seeped away. It had been years since she'd properly lost herself to her anger. She thought herself beyond it. Now she knew better. She hadn't changed. She'd just gotten better at hiding the part of herself that she hated.

Yang forced herself to speak calmly. "Are you ok?" Any normal, rational person would have answered 'no'. They would have said their ribs were broken, that they could barely stand, barely breathe, that they were in agony. Blake wasn't a normal person though.

"Yeah." She even managed to smile. Her face might have been pale and devoid of blood, but she positioned herself at Yang's shoulder. An unquestionable statement of her loyalty.

Cinder watched them with a neutral expression. She showed no remorse or guilt for the attack, even under the furious gaze of her daughter. "Do not force my hand again. Speak like a civilised being, or you will be silenced."

A bully always found a way to blame someone else. It was her fault she'd been attacked, not Cinder's. Yang took a deep breath and made sure she had the reins of her temper firmly in hand. "Fine then. Let's have a discussion. You murdered thousands when you gave Vale to the White Fang. Not Ozpin, you. Everyone who has died since then can be traced back to you. You make me sick."

Cinder's eyes narrowed at the insult. "And you are oversimplifying things like the child you are. Your scope of knowledge barely stretched beyond the grounds of Beacon. You did not see what was coming. Blake may have. You did not.

"So yes. Thousands died in the fall of Vale. Their deaths were regrettable, but they were necessary. How many had the White Fang killed up to that point in their guerrilla war? How many bombs had they planted? And how many had died in the reprisal attacks? Thousands may have died in Vale, but thousands had been dying before that, and would have continued to do so. I acted for the greater good. If the Faunus had their own city, there was a chance to peace."

"It's not just numbers though!" Blake exclaimed. "They were people. Real people. With real lives. Real families. You can't just come up with two values and say one is better."

"Can I not? Is that not what life is? When a bank forecloses on a home they account for the debt owed against what could be recovered. They don't care about who lives within. When you were sent out on your missions against the Grimm as students, did you really believe those were the only people who needed help? Your teachers made a judgement call. They looked at the numbers and decided where you could do the most good, leaving others defenceless.

"As you continue to bring up when you were defending Vale from the Grimm, did you fight every single beast you saw? Did you stay on the streets until you dropped from exhaustion? If you had, you wouldn't be here. You made a judgement call. You chose one life over another, in that case yours, and you were quite right to make it.

"The world is harsh and cruel. I have seen those decisions made countless times. I have been forced to make them where my inaction would only have resulted in all perishing. Life is not simple, nor is it fair. You need to learn that."

She was damn right it wasn't fair. The memories of Vale still haunted Yang. She'd had to make those decisions. She'd seen two people down separate streets needing her help and had only been able to get to one of them. She'd had a split second, but she'd still weighed up one life against another, and decided. And as the light had faded she'd chosen to listen to the aches of her own body rather than the cries of the people who had still needed help. The world was not fair. Yang knew that only too well, but it didn't mean that anyone should accept it.

"Surely you have the power to change that."

"If you believe that you are fool. I may have powers beyond your understanding, but I cannot change human nature. We have spent millennia trying. It is a hopeless fight. People are people. They can display great acts of kindness, courage, love, and in the next moment they are acting in the most barbaric ways imaginable. I have seen soldiers rape and slaughter their way through cities, only to return to their families and kiss their wives and children on their cheeks while crying uncontrollably. Humanity is beyond understanding. We ensured their survival, but failed time and time again to change their nature."

It was such a pessimistic view. One that utterly downplayed anything that Yang had once thought worth fighting for. If the world was never destined to be a better place, what was the point? Surely Cinder had more experience than her. Better understood the futility of what she'd once thought as her altruistic actions.

Yang only had to look at what had happened in the world over the past two years. Sure, Cinder and Ozpin had been behind the conflicts, but they hadn't been the ones pulling the majority of the triggers. They had been pulled by people, normal people, people obeying orders, or acting for their own fulfilment. Even now with the world in a state of tentative peace, no one argued against the injustices that were still being carried out. Perhaps it was hopeless to try and change the fundamental nature of humanity.

"But that doesn't mean we should stop trying," Blake said.

"No, child, it should not," Cinder answered. "It has always been our goal to create a utopia for society to thrive in. One in which the Grimm are nothing but a distant and irrelevant fear. One where there is no conflict, no war, no crime, no discrimination against those who are different. Perhaps we were too ambitious, but you should never change your dreams based on what is possible."

A paradise. One where hunters would be unneeded. Where people would not have to live in fear. It was a fantasy that Yang could throw her weight behind, but it was only a fantasy. She knew more than enough to know it would never happen. There would always be those who sought to change the perfect world to make it just a little more perfect for them.

"You keep saying 'we'. Just who are you talking about? You and Ozpin?" Blake asked.

"Among others. We number seven, though we are now fractured in our purpose."

Seven. It had always been regarded as a magical number. Yang wasn't surprised to learn that there were seven  _gods_  who walked Remnant. "Who are the rest?"

"That is information that is not pertinent to you at this time. If you choose to join me, you may meet them. It is now time to make the choice that I once gave Raven and the others in my service. I have given you far more explanation than I gave them. I will bring down Ozpin. You must decide which side of the conflict you are on."

Yang wasn't convinced. She'd been bought by pretty lies before. Ozpin had once stood before his students and exclaimed their virtues as hunters, only for them now to have been corrupted. She had no doubt that, if required, Cinder would do exactly the same.

All Yang wanted to do was to say no. To walk from this place, go back to their apartment, go to sleep, and then pick up another contract. To bury her head in the sand. Just like everybody else was doing. Passivity in the presence of wrong was synonymous to condoning it. She'd tried. She'd been doing it for the past two years. By hiding she'd told the world it was right that she was a criminal, a traitor, that she didn't even know if Ruby was alive. She had no leg to stand upon railing at the injustices of the world if she didn't make a stand against them first.

She could do that here. Cinder was giving her a chance to once again be part of something bigger than herself, but she wouldn't be part of it on Cinder's terms.

"I want to stop Ozpin. I want to make the world right. But not like you do."

"Then you wish to do nothing."

"I didn't say that."

"And yet you believe that you can remain aloof from what is happening. Tell me, what do you think the reasoning is behind Ozpin's altruistic actions against the Grimm?"

Yang was caught off-balance. She hadn't really thought that Ozpin had any goal between consolidating his powerbase.

"He's been trying to provoke Vacuo," Blake said and Cinder gave her a reappraising look. Yang turned to her too; all the time they'd spent together Blake had never mentioned that.

"Impressive deduction, and quite right. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye after all. Ozpin has spent the last two years driving both Grimm and what he considers criminals into Vacuo, deliberately not pursuing them past the border. To the people of Vale, Vacuo has become known as a safe haven that refuses to extradite those who have broken the law. As for the Vacuans, Vale might be safe from Grimm, but Vacuo is more dangerous than ever. Public sentiment has turned hostile.

"Couple this with Vale building up its military, ignoring the treaty drafted at the end of the Great War, there is only one logical outcome. Ozpin was playing King Badr, as well as the Council. He wishes to rule the world, but after the massacre of the White Fang he can't risk being seen as the aggressor. If there was an  _unprovoked_  attack on the settlements on the borders of Vale, the public would clamour for retaliation.

"It is a trap that the king would have fallen for. He listens far too much to his foolish advisors. He was but hours away from declaring war before I persuaded him otherwise. He will not be a problem, but the same cannot be said for his Satraps. They are the ones who have to foot the majority of the bill for the damage the Grimm are doing, and listen to the complaints of those they rule. That is the entire reason I am in Airtafae, to persuade Aatish not to take matters into his own hands. Ozpin is looking for the smallest excuse. I am trying to prevent a war."

Spelled out like that Yang began to make her own connections. Vacuo needed the hunters who had found their way here, without them they wouldn't have been able to cope with the influx of Grimm. Wherever her contracts had taken her, everyone mentioned that the Grimm never used to be as active in the lands they had lived in for their entire lives. Vacuo simply couldn't have afforded to extradite the rogue hunters even if they'd wanted to. All of these circumstances were a tinderbox just waiting to catch.

"And make no mistake, the war would end with Ozpin adding Vacuo to his fledgling Empire. He is an exemplary general and tactician. And that is with or without Atlesian assistance. It is shame you broke ties with the Schnee girl."

Weiss. Yang hadn't thought of her in a while. When she did anger was the only emotion she could summon. If not for her, Ruby would be safe, not lost in whatever corner of the cruel world she'd ended up in. Yang honestly hated her. What she'd done was unforgivable. If they were talking about the girl they'd shared a room with she could have said Weiss would never take part in a war. But that Weiss had been a lie. She already had one brutal war to her name, what was one more?

"It would be beneficial if you repair them. Ozpin once had Atlas in an iron grip, and though he thinks he still does, I believe there is room for manoeuvre there. Regardless, I am getting ahead of myself. I'm only asking you to help me save all the innocents who will die if Ozpin is left unopposed."

Put like that it would have been an easy decision if Yang wasn't so jaded. She could count the number of people she trusted these days on one hand. She had held no illusion that Cinder was telling her the whole truth, only enough to make her own cause appear righteous.

"I will work with you, on one condition." Yang noticed Cinder's eyes narrow, but she didn't care.

"This will not be a partnership. You will be working for me. I expect you to obey."

Servitude. Yang had expected at much, but few could say they were entirely free to make their choices. She could accept being given orders, there was nothing to say she had to carry them out.

"Fine, but there is still my condition."

"And it is?"

"I want to stop Ozpin, stop this war you both think is coming, but I won't put civilians in danger to achieve it. I'm not going to play the numbers game. If you put me in that scenario, I will try to stop you as much as try to stop him."

"Me too." Yang's resolve was stiffened by Blake's declaration.

"Have you listened to nothing I have said?"

"I listened to it all. You just failed to persuade me. There is another way. There always has to be."

"My ultimate goal is to avoid a conflict. You do not wish to endanger civilians, but what about fighting the Grimm?"

"That…" Yang exchanged a glance with Blake, "would be fine. I don't see how that helps though."

"Nor should you at this time." Yang didn't much like being kept in the dark, but she'd had plenty of experience of it. "Where do the rest of your allegiances fall?"

"With Yang of course." Taiyang was quick to answer. There had been no real doubt in any of their minds. He wouldn't let his daughter go into this without his protection.

Qrow to slower to answer. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I don't like you. I'm not even sure I believe you about all of this, it's crazy, but you've persuaded Yang and my sister. I don't have much of a choice. I will be at their backs for as long as they need me there."

"I am not seeking your friendship, only your obedience."

"And for the time being, I'll be a good boy and do as I'm told." Yang somehow doubted that. Qrow made no effort to hide his disdain. He was even worse than her at learning lessons.

Cinder nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath, obviously debating whether to punish his insolence. "Make sure that you do. That goes for all of you. I do not accept mistakes, and rarely offer second chances. I will expect you in the morning, but I'm sure you have a lot to process. You may remain under my protection within the palace, or Raven can convey you to your residence."

None of them needed to speak to make that choice. They needed to talk, freely, and they wouldn't be able to do that with Cinder in the next room. Seeing their decision made Cinder nodded at Raven. She might still have been injured, but a portal opened. Yang stepped through without a backwards glance.

* * *

 

Yang stared up at the dimly lit ceiling. Her bedroom had no window, it was buried deep within the cliffs, but the light emanated from a simulacrum of one. She'd never liked sleeping in the pitch black. Though all her eyes could do now was roam.

There was simply too much buzzing around her head for sleep to be anything more than a distant wish. Her muscles hurt from the fight, and fatigue was biting deep into her, but she couldn't fall into unconsciousness.

The return to their apartment had been hectic. Taiyang and Qrow had rushed in, determined to clear the rooms of any potential dangers. Blake had passed out the moment she'd entered the portal; between her injuries, depleted Aura, and their unique mode of transportation, her body had had enough. Yang had only narrowly managed to catch her partner as she collapsed.

With the apartment clear, they'd spent the next hour bandaging their wounded ̶ ̶ getting the unconscious Faunus to bed ̶ ̶ and going over what they'd learned, questioning Raven as to the truth of it, and what they'd committed themselves to. Finally Taiyang had suggested they were all far too tired to concentrate.

Yang had been. She'd quickly showered to wash away the blood and sweat before collapsing into bed, certain she'd pass out the moment her head hit the pillows. That had been over an hour ago.

There was a soft knock at her door. "Yang, are you awake?" Raven called through it.

"Yeah," Yang sighed putting the prospect of sleep out of her mind and pushing herself up onto an elbow.

The handle turned and Raven entered. Along with tending her wounds, Yang had lent her a dress. It fit almost perfectly. The pair of them had nearly identical figures. She hesitated before gesturing at the bed. "May I sit?"

"Course," Yang shifted her legs over, clearing a space.

Raven lowered herself to the quilt, ensuring that her dress didn't crumple beneath her. Yang had expected her to start speaking, but Raven remained silent, mulling something over in her mind.

"Did you want anything?" Yang attempted to lead her. She knew just how awkward Raven could be around people.

"Umm… yes. After everything that happened today I feel that I owe you an explanation. A proper one. Before you say anything, I need to speak and I'm not very good at doing that any more. I'd ask you to listen first."

Yang nodded, remaining silent. In her gut she could feel where this conversation was heading. Raven didn't look at her. She stared out of the imitation window.

"I… I wanted to tell you about it all for so long, but my mother made me promise not to. She used the same argument she always had. That you were safer not knowing, and as I always had I agreed. I didn't want to put you in any more danger, but I should have understood that you're old enough to make your own decisions. It's not my right to make them for you." Raven met her eyes. "I'm sorry."

Yang was about to open her mouth when Raven started speaking again.

"I should have been stronger. But I'm not. I've never been strong. I always relied on Qrow for that, or Summer, or Tai. They always gave me a shoulder to lean upon if I needed it. I didn't have that, don't have it anymore. Mother is… how she is. She expects obedience most of all. I've never been able to stand up to her. She knows so much, and just manages to make all my arguments fallacies. She always manages to persuade me, and I just end up agreeing with her…"

Raven returned to staring out the window. Even in the dim light, the small shimmering tears were visible at the corner of her eyes.

"I know I sound as if I'm making excuses. I'm not. I'm aware now that there are no excuses. Nothing that justifies what I did to you, but I want to explain it. I owe you that much." She took a deep breath. "When I found out that I was pregnant with you, I was a little scared yes, I knew my life was going to change, I wasn't going to be able to be a hunter anymore, but just like Tai I was over the moon. You were going to be my special prince or princess. We used to spend hours just hoping for you to move, to kick, I never loved anything so much…" Raven's voice broke and the tears began to flow in earnest. Yang's own mouth was dry, and a lump had formed in her throat. Her dad had never told her anything, never wanting to bring up the memories.

With a swallow Raven started speaking again. "I was so happy in those days. Painting your room, buying your clothes, planning everything to make it perfect for you. Summer helped me so much. She was there whenever I needed her, and she was there when I went into labour. The birth was easy, much easier than most. You just couldn't wait to start exploring the world." Yang gulped and Raven smiled.

"You were there, so perfect, with the tiniest little hands and feet I'd ever seen. You were so beautiful. Summer was crying as she dried you off and laid you on my breast, and when I looked down at my perfect little baby girl, do you know what I felt?" Raven's face crumpled. "Nothing. I'd been looking forward to that moment for months, and I felt nothing.

"There was nothing wrong with you, you were perfect, but I felt nothing. When Summer called him Tai rushed in, took you in his arms, and he started crying as well. He wasn't… hollow. I was the only one who couldn't see you for what you were."

This was almost more information than Yang wanted to here. Old wounds were being crisscrossed with new ones. She didn't want to know that her mother had felt nothing for her.

"Everyone was so happy, Tai kept bursting into song, Qrow didn't want to leave, and through it all there was a cloud hovering over me. I tried, I really did. When I fed you I willed myself feeling something, for a bond to form between us, but it never did. Summer assured me it was normal, that most mothers go through it in the first couple of weeks. I didn't believe her, and it didn't pass.

"It was then that I started to believe I had no right being a mother. You were perfect, and I could barely bring myself to be in the same room as you. I was so tired I could hardly get out of bed to feed you. I couldn't concentrate on anything. I saw how Tai handled you, how Summer did, and Qrow, but I just couldn't do the same. I began to think that you might have been better off without me.

"And then in the midst of all that, my mother came to me, convinced me of who she was. I don't think she knew about you at first, but when she did she told me what had happened to her. I couldn't put you in that much danger. If Ozpin found out about me there was chance he wouldn't have gone after you if he thought I didn't care. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted all of you to be. Tai, Summer, Qrow, they would have tried to defend you, and they would have died. All because of me.

"Tai was a great dad, and Summer… she'd been a far better mother than I ever could have been. Changing you, singing to you, doing everything I should have been but couldn't. You were better off with them, without me. I hated what I did, but I did it for you.

"I was depressed. I know that's not an excuse. I failed you in every way imaginable, but it's what happened. It was only after, that I realised just what I'd abandoned, but… by then it was too late. Tai was your dad and… Summer was you mum. I couldn't go back, show my face. I was too ashamed, and by then I'd seen some of the truth behind what Ozpin was. I couldn't sacrifice your childhood just to fulfil my own desires. You were right. I am a terrible person. I came to realise that I loved you, so much that it hurt, you were my perfect daughter, and I'd pushed you away." Raven trailed off.

Yang breathed. She concentrated on doing that, focussed on bringing air to her lungs and then exhaling it. It was the only way she could remain conscious as her mind stumbled under the deluge of new information. Raven had just laid her soul bare.

For the first time Yang had a version of events that led to being abandoned larger than just 'Raven left.' She didn't know if her dad had been right to keep it from her. It had been easier not knowing. The woman who'd given birth to her had felt nothing towards her. That hurt. The one facet of life that should have been assured is the love of parents. She'd experienced that from her mum and dad, but still.

At least she had part of an explanation though. Postnatal depression wasn't exotic, it wasn't an excuse, but it did explain how Raven could claim to love her so much now. If Raven had really been suffering, and it sounded like she had, then learning about her true parentage on top of it might just have pushed her over the edge. Raven might have believed that she was better off leaving her daughter. That it was safer, but there was one thing Yang wanted to know.

"Why didn't you come back?" She was barely able to recognise her own voice, so bloated was it with emotion.

Raven flinched at the accusation. "I told you. I've never been strong. I'd done the damage. Summer was your mum. Even if I came back, I couldn't have been. It… it was easier not to face it, to leave you happy."

"But I wasn't happy. After mum died, dad went off the rails. I needed someone then." Raven still stared at the ground. "Look at me!"

With trepidation that was plain Raven met her eyes. The sorrow and pain with them was real. "Yang… I don't know what to say. I have nothing which will absolve me. After Summer… it hurt more than ever. I stopped checking. I left. I went to another continent. And you might have needed someone, but that someone wasn't the woman who'd abandoned you in your crib, someone trying to replace your mum."

There was truth in those words. Yang didn't know just how she would have reacted to Raven appearing when she'd already been in so much pain.

"It was only years later that I managed to find the strength to check again. You were at Signal, you were doing well. And then at Beacon, you and Summer's daughter thriving. I couldn't get involved, especially not right under Ozpin's nose. It was only when you were on the train that I couldn't run away longer, and then again in the courthouse, and I suppose that leads us here.

"That's it Yang. That's all my sordid secrets. You know it all. And you know how sorry I am. And I know that you can't forgive me. It's ok. I'll never be able to forgive myself."

Neither would Yang. An apology now didn't undo eighteen years of hurt, it simply couldn't. Knowing all the facts was painful, but it at least she could now see it from Raven's perspective. Depressed, with a daughter she felt nothing for, seeing everyone else so happy, and being unable to care for her daughter in the way she should have been, having to have Summer do it for her. And then her mother returns, and says her daughter would be safer without her.

"I… I can't forgive you." Raven nodded, the streaks of tears glistening. It was the reaction she'd expected. "But… now I can at least understand. You'll never be able to get back those years. They're gone forever, for both of us, but now, with everything in the open, we can try again." Yang sniffed, she shouldn't be having a conversation of this importance while lying in her bed.

"Really?" Raven barely dared to breathe.

"Yes. We've made a start over the past two years. We just have to keep going. I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but… I'd like you to be in mine."

"I'd like that too."

The pair of them stared at each other. Yang's heart was pulsing in her chest. Raven would never be her mum, but she could be something in her life. Raven's crimson eyes were alight with hope. The moment was broken when Yang yawned her fatigue, both physical, and now mental, catching up with her.

"I really need to sleep. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes, I suppose." There was a heartbeat when Yang sensed Raven was considering trying to hug her, but then it passed. She stood up. "Goodnight Yang."

Yang yawned again, settling back down on her pillows. "Goodnight." Raven had started towards the door when an idea came to Yang's mind and, as she so often did, she vocalised it without proper thought. "Do you want to tuck me in?"

It was ridiculous. She was a twenty-year-old huntress, not a toddler, but she wanted Raven to experience something to cement this night in her mind. Not to mention how she just wanted the security that was inherent through childhood again.

If anything her question only made Raven cry more, but she did turn back and slowly walk forward. With great tenderness she grasped the top of the white quilt and pulled it up to Yang's chin, smoothing it down over her body. This close the scent of shower gel and shampoo wafted over Yang. Raven brushed aside the few locks of hair obscuring Yang's eyes, before leaning down and kissing her daughter on the forehead. "Sleep well," she whispered. Inside her carefully constructed cocoon Yang began to feel warmth, and it wasn't due her body temperature.

On silent feet Raven padded from the room, it was only at the door that Yang's voice stopped her. "Do you know where we'll be going?"

Raven kept her voice soft. "We should only be here for a few more days, and then we'll head back to the capital. And after that… Menagerie."

 


	13. Chapter 13

Winter stared up at ceiling of her apartment. It was, without any need to boast, the most luxurious in Atlas. No one would disagree with her, probably not even Weiss. Her sister was playing catch-up. Whereas Weiss was forced to make do with what she could buy, this apartment had been designed to Winter’s specifications before the skyscraper had even been built. It would have been more accurate to say that the luxury tower had been built to house her apartment, than the other way around.

Despite the foam mattress hugging her form, the perfectly regulated temperature, and the softest moonlight penetrating through the tinted windows, she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t an issue that affected her usually. On a normal day she was so exhausted by her workload that she passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Today hadn’t been the usual. Her weekly meal with her sister had continued long past the restaurant. It was partly because they’d delved too deeply into an issue not to resolve it, but mostly because Winter had thought Weiss needed the break.

The Schnee ball should have been the crowning triumph on what had been an extremely successful year. Naturally, with her planning the festivities, it had gone off without a hitch. Well, almost without a hitch. The absence of the Lady Schnee had not gone unnoticed.

In all honesty, if Winter ever saw Ruby again she was of a mind to slap her ̶ ̶ or have her arrested. Weiss had gotten over her. She’d recovered from her heartbreak, and then Ruby had reappeared and opened all the old wounds anew. That would have been bad enough by itself. At the breakfast table she’d seen how Weiss had almost literally been glowing. It hadn’t been hard to guess what the pair of them had been doing in Weiss’ old room. If it had stayed that way, Winter knew she would have been able to call a truce with Ruby for her sister’s sake but, just as she’d feared, Ruby had hurt Weiss once more.

Ruby had run off the first time when Weiss had needed her most. Made her believe that she’d been kidnapped. Weiss had been close to inconsolable in those few days. It had only gotten worse when the pictures of Ruby boarding a flight under her own free will had surfaced. It had broken Weiss. Rather than cry, she’d thrown herself into her work as she often did. She hadn’t cared about her own wellbeing, and Winter had been entirely unable to reach her.

Weiss had ended up burning herself out. It was only when she was restricted to bed under her doctor’s orders that Winter had managed to talk to her sister. She’d thought they’d gotten through it, but then Ruby had returned to ruin it all.

In the days since she’d vanished Weiss had been less than forthcoming about the details, though the withdrawal of the arrest warrant told its own story. Weiss had once again tried to lose herself in her responsibilities. It had taken multiple reminders and undoubtedly nagging from Starling for Weiss to put down her work and meet Winter for a meal.

Normally they attempted to steer clear of business though, this week in particular, she knew that Weiss could only bend so far. Their strategy proposals had carried on in the waiting car and, helped by several bottles of wine, into the small hours of the morning.

The alcohol was likely a factor in why she couldn’t sleep. Her head spun ever so slightly, but the gentle perssure of her bladder was just enough to be noticeable. The discomfort coupled with the thoughts swirling round her head ensured that unconsciousness continued to elude her.

A scream rent the silence. Long and loud, it pierced through the walls and into Winter’s ears. She scrambled over to her bedside table and ripped open the drawer, her pulse rocketing. The scream had only been silent for a moment, before it came again, louder and shriller than ever. In the darkness the inside of the drawer was lost to her, and her fingers scrambled against the wood before they settled on a polymer grip.

In one smooth motion Winter disengaged the two safeties and chambered a round. The mechanical clicks reassured her, even if they were barely audible over the screams. It was a low calibre weapon but, unlike Weiss, she’d never undergone more than basic self-defence training. She’d never thought she’d needed it when she could Summon. Now she knew better. Even the light weight of the weapon was comforting in her hand. She was sure most people with hunter-strength Auras would laugh when she pointed it at them, but she was equally sure most people couldn’t afford to fire a not so small fortune with every shot.

With her weapon firmly grasped Winter tore from her room. The screaming had stopped, but Winter knew just where it had come from. She threw open the door to the guest room that her sister occasionally used.

Her pupils contracted; unlike the rest of the apartment this room wasn’t shrouded in darkness. A figure glowed within. Without the need for conscious thought, Winter brought her pistol to bear on her target, her finger moving to the trigger.

Her mind caught up with the instincts honed into her body. Weiss was on the bed, her back pressed hard up against the headboard, straining to get away. Despite the climate control in her apartment the room was cold, close to freezing, and goosebumps rose on her flesh.

“No… Go away… Please…” Weiss sobbed, cowering from the figure that seemed to loom over her.

Ice flooded through Winter’s bloodstream. A single rational thought sprung to her mind. It was impossible. Completely. Ghosts didn’t exist. And yet… Winter recognised the ethereal silhouette. Amber. It was unmistakably Amber standing next to Weiss’ bed, an arm raised and pointing.

“You… murdered… me…” The voice that came from her throat was not one that should have come from a child. It contained no happiness, or joy. Instead it was cruel, cold, and chilling. It set Winter’s hairs on end, but the words hit Weiss much harder.

She flinched as if they were daggers. The tears streaming down her face glistened in the luminescence. “I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

Winter lowered her pistol. This likely wasn’t a battle that could be fought with bullets. After the story about Weiss and Amber had come out, she’d done some research. There wasn’t much information on just who the girl had been; the pair of them had been photographed together a few times and that was it. The actual details behind what had happened were almost non-existent, and Weiss had refused to even acknowledge her question.

The level to which Weiss had gone to expunge the story from the public consciousness showed that it was at least based on a foundation of fact, and here was the truth before her. Whatever had happened on that day in Vale, Weiss had killed Amber. There was no other way that the girl could be Summoned. It might have been Weiss’ Semblance, but to Weiss the ghost seemed so real.

“You… murdered… me…” The girl repeated in the same chilling tone.

“I didn’t…” Weiss’ whole body shook with fear and remorse.

“You…”

“I’m sorry!” Weiss shouted at the apparition. “I’m sorry!”

Winter had seen enough. She rounded the bed, set her pistol on the table, and climbed up next to her sister. The mattress quivered under its occupant’s distress. Weiss fought weakly as Winter attempted to take her into her arms. To her Winter was just another part of the living nightmare. Winter shushed her.

“It’s ok Weiss. I’m here. I’m here.” Gradually Weiss’ feeble attempts to escape stopped, the energy draining from her body. Winter cradled the back of her head as Weiss cried into her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Weiss whispered. Winter knew the apology wasn’t meant for her.

“It’s ok. You’re safe now. It’s ok.” There wasn’t much she could say. This entire scenario was one of Weiss’ making, and only she could stop it.

“You murdered me.” Weiss trembled as her accuser spoke again.

Winter looked at the girl. Her features may have been identical to the ones she’d seen in the photos, but her expression was not. She couldn’t even imagine such a young child being able to comprehend such an intensity of malice. Her entire face was contorted with it. The girl hated Weiss, because Weiss believed she deserved to be hated. Her sister was torturing herself over what she considered her past crime.

“Weiss, she’s not real.”

“She is.”

“No she isn’t. I can feel your Semblance. Just shut it off.”

It might have been the rational thing to say, but rationality rarely existed in symbiosis with emotional distress. Winter wasn’t even sure Weiss had heard her.

“I’m sorry,” Weiss repeated as if the apology would cause the ghost disappear. It didn’t. If anything the room grew brighter and the temperature plummeted.

“Weiss,” Winter said, for the first time a tremor entering her voice. Weiss might have been much stronger than her when it came to her Aura and combat, but with a Semblance out of control even the strongest hunters were at risk of doing themselves permanent harm. “Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself. Turn it off.”

“I can’t.” Weiss sobbed against her chest.

“You can. Just like we used to practice.” The harsh lessons their father had put them through were etched in both of their memories, but the rough teaching had made them hard to forget. For a moment Amber dimmed, but it was only for a moment.

“I can’t.”

“I’m here for you.” Winter pushed Weiss’ ear up against her chest. “Remember the exercises. Count. Focus.” Her own heart was racing, but it would provide a far steadier rhythm than Weiss’ own.

Weiss made the effort. As she tried to calm herself down Winter rubbed her back. The ghost faded ever so slightly before returning. “I know you can do this.” Winter believed in her sister. Weiss was strong. She could do almost anything when she set her mind to it.

In her terrified and haunted state it obviously wasn’t easy for Weiss to do something that normally was so instinctive. Time and again the girl dimmed and got brighter, but each time it was for slightly longer, until finally the room went dark and stayed that way.

Entirely exhausted and drained of energy Weiss collapsed against Winter, her muscles slack. Winter just held her, making comforting noises that neither of them had heard since her mother had passed. “It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright.” She stroked the back of her hair, smoothing it flat where it had been disturbed.

No doubt, in the moment, her words sounded false, but they would eventually prove true. Her sister would recover from this, Winter knew it. She would be able to get out of bed in the morning and face the day with a smile. Winter’s only hope was that Weiss would be able to smile because she’d forgiven herself, not simply smile as a façade to hide her turmoil.

“I’m sorry,” Weiss whispered into the sheer white material of Winter’s nightgown.

“Weiss.” The guilt contained in the simple apology caused her heart to break. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I do.”

“Do… do you want to talk about it?” Weiss would have to. Perhaps she had to Ruby, but there was no way to know anymore. Regardless, even if she had, it hadn’t helped.

Weiss shook her head, but it wasn't a denial. Winter didn’t press her. Instead she continued to make soothing sounds until Weiss began to speak in her own time.

“I murdered her.”

It was eerie to hear the same words from Weiss’ mouth, but then the ghost had only been a reflection of how Weiss viewed herself. Whatever had happened in Vale, Weiss thought herself a murderer.

“No you’re not.”

“You weren’t there.” Weiss tried and failed to escape her embrace. At any other time the anger would have annoyed Winter. As it was, she could only feel relief that Weiss was showing something other than utter sorrow.

“No, I wasn’t. So tell me what happened.”

Weiss obviously debated with herself, but eventually the need to confess her sins outweighed any reservations. “I found her. Lyra was… and she…” Winter waited, hardly daring to breathe. “She… I couldn’t help her.”

“Why not?” Winter coaxed.

“Because... I wasn’t strong enough.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true. I should have been able to do something to save her. Instead I murdered her.” At the admission Weiss broke into fresh wave of sobs. Winter let them subside in their own time.

“Why couldn’t you save her?” Winter had never really put much effort into studying the techniques of counselling, but for her _not much effort_ would have been enough to gain degrees. Weiss had contorted the reality to satisfy her own need for guilt, and only by deconstructing the lies could Winter help her.

“Every time I tried it just hurt her more. I couldn’t lift the beam. I couldn’t do anything.”

With Weiss’ eyes were pressed up against her body, Winter didn’t make any attempt to mask her horror as a scene began to form in her mind’s eye. “She was injured?” Weiss nodded. “Hurting?” Another confirmation. “So you helped her the only way you could?”

“I murdered ̶ ̶ ”

“No you didn’t. You helped her. You made a hard decision, but it was the right one. What would you have done differently?”

“I don’t know. Gone to get help. Something.”

“Help from whom? The city was a mess, and while you were doing that you would have had to leave her. All alone.”

“But…”

“You did the right thing.” Weiss had done what few would have had the strength to do. “She would have suffered without you. If she could, she would say thank you.”

“Then why didn’t she?”

“It wasn’t her. It was just your Semblance.”

Weiss let out a gasp as a realisation struck her. “I trapped her here.”

“What?”

This time Weiss did manage to fight clear of the embrace, and the horror in her expression was more intense that anything so far. She appeared entirely distraught. “I killed her. I trapped her soul. I made sure she’d never move on. Never be with Lyra again.”

Winter took a moment to process the latest construction. She’d never come down on one side or the other when it came to religion. There just wasn’t enough evidence for someone as logical as her. She wasn’t even sure if she believed in eternal souls or some sort of afterlife, but Weiss obviously did, and in her mind she had stopped Amber passing on.

Winter may have been undecided on theology, but she’d studied her heritage intensely in her quest to perfect the application of it. Weiss’ argument had one fatal flaw.

“It wasn’t her soul.”

“It was.”

“It wasn’t. Weiss, you need to stop and think about it. You can summon the Grimm. Are you saying they have souls?”

“No, but ̶ ̶ ”

“There are no _buts_. You can’t have it one way and not the other. Either the Grimm have souls, or Amber is with her mother in a better place.”

“She was so angry.”

“No she wasn’t, because that wasn't her. The things we Summon come from us Weiss. We expect the Grimm to be bloodlusted, so that is what they are. You believe that you deserve be punished, and so your Summon reflected that. But you don’t. You did what any decent person would have done. You saved her from suffering, and if she could she would thank you for it.”

“How do you know?”

Winter could have lied. She could have said she did. It might have been easier, and she wasn’t above lying to get her own way, but Weiss didn’t need a lie. “I don’t. Not with certainty. But I know you Weiss. If you did it, it was because there was no other option, no other way to save her. You have to stop torturing yourself.”

If her sister had one fault ̶ ̶ in actuality she had many ̶ ̶ it was that she blamed herself for everything. Even for matters that she had no control over. In contrast to the moniker the common people gave her, her failing was that her heart wasn’t made of ice.

Weiss didn’t immediately dismiss the claim. Instead she actually seemed to be assessing its merit. Ultimately Winter knew she had done as much as she could. She’d always be there for Weiss if she needed support, but it was Weiss who had to accept that she was good person.

Winter waited patiently for whatever conclusion Weiss arrived at. She had to ignore the chill in the air that was the result of Weiss’ Semblance, her sleepwear proving little match for it. Judging by the way Weiss wrapped her arms around herself, she was feeling it too. “Can you stay here tonight?”

They weren’t the words that Winter had expected. It was such an innocent and childlike request that she had no choice but to agree. Weiss had seen monsters tonight, and she wanted her sister to banish them. “Sure. Just lie back.” Winter rose and attempted to remake the bed that Weiss had disturbed in her distress. Gently she settled the quilt over Weiss, before climbing in herself.

Winter hugged her. Despite the technicality of their ages, she had always felt as if she were the big sister. Perhaps it was because she’d always been further ahead in their lessons, maybe because their father had trusted her with more responsibilities, or maybe simply because she’d always been taller. Whatever it was, now that they’d reformed their relationship, she was determined to protect Weiss. She kissed the back of her sister’s head.

“Go to sleep,” Winter whispered and, after a time, Weiss did.

* * *

 

“Ruby,” Weiss muttered feeling the warm body alongside her own. The body started.

“No Weiss, it’s me.”

Weiss tried not let disappointment overwhelm her as the memories of the previous night came flooding back. The nightmare, Amber, what she’d confessed, how Winter must view her now that she knew the truth. It was enough that she wanted to curl into a ball and never face the world again.

“Are you ok?”

There was a simple answer to that, and a truthful one. No she wasn’t. Not in any way that mattered. No matter what she did for Atlas, the people complained. Her painstakingly negotiated treaty was on the verge of falling apart, Ruby had left her again. But worst of all the guilt of her actions was close to overwhelming.

It was Ruby who’d stirred them up. Weiss still couldn’t believe that she’d simply let Ruby walk out of her life. Before the ball she’d always had the belief that, if she’d just been given the chance to explain, Ruby would have seen her point of view. Seen why her actions had been necessary.

The reality couldn’t have been further from the truth. She’d explained it all, and Ruby still viewed her as a monster. She hadn’t said it, but she hadn’t had to. There was no other reason why after that magical night, Ruby still left.

Since that time, all of Weiss’ doubts had doubled. She’d relived all of her decisions, only viewing them through Ruby’s eyes. If it had been anyone else, Weiss could have ignored them. But she loved Ruby and, by extension, she loved the way that Ruby viewed the world. The world where she was painted the villain.

She could see how her actions must have looked to someone who didn’t know all the facts. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could have done things differently. Maybe in ways that wouldn’t have made Ruby feel sick just being in the same room as her.

She probably could have; not for all, but maybe for some. Maybe some of her decisions had been too hasty, too harsh. In the moment they’d been made to best of her abilities, but now… some had begun to weigh heavily on her.

It was since Ruby had left that she’d begun to have nightmares. Not every night, but often enough that she started to fear her pillows. The ghosts of the departed paraded before her in her sleep. The nightmares were bad, but they weren’t the worst. Not by a long way.

Any dream of Ruby superseded reality. For a few short hours she lived in a land of bliss, only to wake to a cold bed. Although cold was vastly preferable to waking in a warm one. That only allowed the fantasy to perpetuate for a few more precious heartbeats before the pain struck again.

She hadn’t dreamt of Ruby last night though. Instead, Amber her visited her. It was a dream she’d had before. It would start in a park, or a playground, or anywhere else that Amber was happy and full of life. She’d run around, hug Lyra, hug her, laugh, do everything that she had once enjoyed doing. And, just as Weiss’ heart almost couldn’t take any more, a stain would grow on the front of Amber’s dress. Weiss would run to her, hold her, and be entirely unable to stop her slipping away.

She’d spent the last few weeks reliving her greatest crime time and time again, but tonight was the first time the nightmare had extended past her waking. It had been terrifying to lose control over her Semblance, almost as if her own body was betraying her. Amber had been so real, and so had her hate.

Weiss could only be thankful that she’d decided to sleep in Winter’s apartment rather than make the journey back to hers. She couldn’t have faced anyone else finding her like that. It was hard enough having to reveal the truth to her own sister. She shuddered to think of what rumours the discovery by someone else would have started.

Winter had helped her, and Weiss pushed herself into a sitting position so she could see her.

“I’m fine.” It was obvious Winter didn’t believe her. “Look… about last night.”

“There’s no need to mention it.”

“I just want to say thank you.” Her gratitude was awkwardly conveyed.

“Like I said, it was no problem. You would have done the same for me. But are you alright? Really?”

“Yes.”

Winter was quiet for a time, a slight frown creasing her forehead before she spoke her next words softly. “You still love her don’t you?”

Weiss’ immediate thought was to deny it. There was no questioning just who Winter meant by ‘her’. But she didn’t. She couldn’t deny the truth, and if she couldn’t talk to her sister then who could she? Weiss nodded.

“You want her back?”

Weiss nodded again, her eyes glazing over as she saw Ruby. Not walking away from her, but walking towards her in her old childhood bedroom. With her cheeks glowing and broad smile on her lips. The image made Weiss’ heart ache.

“Why did she leave?”

Weiss didn’t answer straight away. Instead she mulled the question in her mind, before giving voice to the truth.

“Because she’s too good for me.”

It would have been reassuring if Winter had protested, told her it was a lie, that she was wrong. That at least would have allowed Weiss to argue with her, to act as one part of her mind as Winter took the place of the other. Perhaps then she would have found some resolution, one way or another, but Winter didn’t. Again she waited some time before speaking.

“Do you believe that?”

Did she? Sure. It was what she told herself late at night when she was lonely, when she needed someone to blame. But did she honestly believe she was a bad person? That Ruby had been right to leave her? Weiss opened her mouth and then closed it again.

Ruby had told her why she’d had to leave, pointed at the acts that she couldn’t stomach. From a distant perspective they did not reflect kindly on her, that much was true. The steps she’d taken to end the Atlesian civil war before it begun had been aggressive definitely, but she still believed that they had been a necessity.

They were a mark against her, but the end of the war hadn’t been the summation of everything she’d achieved. Atlas was stable. It was thriving. People were safe, and the majority were happy. And it still wasn’t enough for Ruby.

In the end she just shrugged her shoulders. Maybe she did believe that Ruby was just too good for her, too pure.

“Weiss… If you really do love her, and you can’t imagine life without her, win her back.”

“How?” Even the prospect made her heart flutter. It was surely impossible.

Winter gave a small smirk. “Ruby didn’t fall in love with me. She fell in love with you. You know how that happened. You know who she fell in love with. So be that person again.”

“But I can’t.” It was a moan of petulance, but she couldn’t help uttering it. Beacon had been so long ago. She wasn’t the same person anymore. She couldn’t be.

“Don’t give me that. You’re a Schnee, but more importantly you’re my sister. You can do anything you set your mind to. You have the entirety of Atlas at you beck and call, and the SDC is at your disposal as well.”

“But Ruby doesn’t want the Ice Queen.”

“Perhaps not, but that’s not you is it? So Ruby doesn’t want the Ice Queen, show her you aren’t. Every time she sees a positive story on the news, she’ll know that you’re behind it. Show her you haven’t changed. Ruby didn’t fall in love with you because you were a student at Beacon, and she wouldn’t turn you away just because of your position now. She fell in love with you. Be that _you_ again.”

Could she? Was that _her_ even compatible with her current life? It had been easy to rail against the decisions of her father when she hadn’t been the one making them. She and Ruby had discussed so much, talked about what would make the world a better place. Many of their ideas had boiled down to childish fantasies. But surely, with all her power, she could ensure that they were not. Maybe if they became real, maybe, she could also atone for her sins.

Winter obviously saw her come to a decision. “See? No problem is insurmountable. Not even one as complicated as you two have made this. All you have to do is give us the opportunity to put our heads together.”

Weiss smiled. She and Ruby had never liked doing things the simple way, surely this extended to whatever their relationship could be categorised as now as well. And Winter was right, she should share her problems. At one time she might have feared showing a weakness to Winter, but that time had long passed. They were partners, family, and they were stronger together.

As awkward as it was with them both sitting against the headboard Weiss twisted and embraced her sister. After a moment of hesitation Winter squeezed her back. They’d never really been much of a hugging family before, just another thing she had to be grateful towards Ruby for. Just touching someone who you knew cared about you was special. It was a balm on the soul.

“Thank you. And you’re right.”

Weiss could almost feel Winter’s smirk over her shoulder. “Of course I am. I’m always right. Don’t you ever forget it.” Weiss couldn’t really argue with that.

They stayed that way for a while before they finally broke apart. “Are you ok now?” Winter asked again.

This time Weiss replied truthfully. “Yeah.” She was. She now had a plan of action. She would make up for her past mistakes and win Ruby back.

“Good.” Winter smiled, and it was entirely unfair that she could look that good before the sun had even risen. “Now it’s still early, so why don’t you have a shower, and I’ll make us some breakfast?”

That sounded just about perfect to her. Normally she could barely stomach anything in the morning, but today her gut told her its opinion on fasting. Winter really was the best sister that anyone could ask for.

* * *

 

In addition to her numerous other talents Winter was an exemplary cook. She hadn’t gone overboard, but the mushroom sausage omelettes with a side of artistically arranged fruit salad could have graced the plates of any restaurant in the city.

“So?” Winter asked.

Weiss swallowed. “This is great, really great. I don’t know where you find the time.”

“Here and there. Cooking helps me relax. You used to cook, didn’t you?”

Weiss had. She’d even enjoyed the simple and thought free process at one point, but that was before she’d shared that pastime with Ruby. The evenings they’d spent in the kitchen were rose-tinted, and since then she could barely bring herself to zap something in the microwave. She managed to keep the turmoil off her face.

“Yeah, but like you said, it’s just finding the time.”

“Well, why don’t we? Instead of going to a restaurant we should cook something.”

That… sounded as if it could actually be fun. She did enjoy cooking, and maybe with Winter keeping her occupied she wouldn’t think of Ruby too much. “Sure, but we’ll need to wait until we get back.”

Winter set down her cutlery and pressed her lips together. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I think you should stay here.”

“What?” Weiss placed her own fork on her plate with deliberate carefulness. The negotiations in Vacuo had been planned months ago. She very much hoped she’d misheard her sister.

“Don’t bite my head off, but I think it’ll be for the best.”

“And why exactly is that?” The question unmistakably came from the Ice Queen, but the icy tone failed to intimidate Winter.

“Do you really need to ask? After this morning? If that had happened in the palace, or even in the embassy, it would have severely jeopardised our positon.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“I can.” It was a matter of willpower.

“Fine then. Let’s ignore the negative connotations in terms of the negotiations, and I’ll speak as your sister.” Her glare softened. “I’m worried about you. This morning… it wasn’t normal. It’s not something that I can just ignore. It scared me. I knew you weren’t in a good place, but I thought you were getting better. I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“It’s not.”

“Weiss…”

“You think I’m crazy. That I need to see a shrink?”

“Of course I don’t think you’re crazy. But… I think some time off would do you good, and if you want to talk to anyone…”

“I don’t need time off, and I talked to you.” If she had any time off it would give Coco and the other dissenters among the nobility just another excuse to try and cause trouble for her. Put stories online about her being too tired to rule.

“And I’ll always be here for you if you need me, but you’ve been doing this straight for almost two years. Everyone needs a break.”

“You don’t.” Winter was at the SDC every day, come snow or shine.

Having been caught out Winter looked away for a moment. “Yes, but… I haven’t had to go through everything you’ve been through. I’d need to take a vacation after that.”

Winter was lying. As far as Weiss knew her sister hadn’t taken a vacation in years. Even after almost being murdered at the Osier ball and their father’s death, she’d been back at the Eiszapfen the following day.

“Don’t treat me like everyone else. I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“And I appreciate it, but I need to be at the negotiations.” She’d been instrumental in the initial stages of the treaty ̶ ̶ the whole thing had been her idea ̶ ̶ and she would see it to the end. If there was an end.

Weiss was entirely at a loss as to why King Badr had changed his tune so abruptly and so vastly. One day the treaty had been coming along slowly but surely, and the next he’d stonewalled it by throwing all manner of alterations and ridiculous conditions in their direction. It didn’t make sense.

She’d spent months drawing up the trade agreement. It was vastly beneficial to both their countries, both economically and in terms of the stability it would bring. It would have created tens or maybe even hundreds of thousands of jobs over the coming decade. Jobs desperately needed thanks to the blooming population of the world.

It would have brought their two countries closer than ever, which was especially pertinent when Vacuo needed all the help it could get to deal with the Grimm threatening its internal areas. Her offer of assistance had been the sweetener that she was sure would have sealed the deal. Now it was all falling apart, and only she could fix it.

“Weiss really don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your presence would be a hindrance more than anything else.”

“Go on, tell me why the person who first wrote the treaty shouldn’t be there.”

“Do you need to ask with that stunt you pulled in Alfurat?” Weiss automatically opened her mouth to deny all knowledge of whatever Winter was alluding to. “You told me not to treat you like an idiot. Well that goes both ways. Did you really think I wouldn’t put two and two together when I saw the chase? I’m not sure what you were after, you’ve at least managed to keep that hidden from me, but Badr or one of his advisors has undoubtedly worked it out too. It’s going to be hard enough to smooth over that mess without them constantly being reminded who ordered an unauthorised military operation within their sovereign territory.”

“I need to be there,” Weiss repeated. While technically true that she’d ordered the extraordinary rendition of Doctor Sampson, she’d been well within her rights to. Celeste was an Atlesian citizen, no matter what pieces of paper she carried, and as such she’d needed to face judgement within Atlas. If he had any sense, Badr would suck it up like any decent politician and do what was best for his people.

“To put it bluntly you’ll be a liability. I’ll take Starling. She can keep you in the loop.”

“No I won’t. And anyway Starling needs to look after Lily. She can’t just disappear for a couple of weeks. You’re worrying too much. The negotiations will go smoothly. There’s too much at stake for Badr and the Councillors not to agree. We might have to make some concessions, but they will sign. And if they don’t willingly…” There were certain advantages that came from possessing the strongest hand at the negotiating table. It would only take moderate sanctions to bring Vacuo to its knees ̶ ̶ the country was too reliant on the SDC.

“That’s always been a possibility, but it’s a last resort.”

“Of course it is. I’m confident that it won’t be necessary. All we need to do is find out why Badr decided to change his mind. Then we can address it.”

“If you won’t take my advice and stay here, at least let me have a couple of one on one sessions with him.”

“If you think it would help, I see no reason why not. As long as you can actually get him in a room that is.”

“I think I’ll be able to manage,” Winter said with a smugness that was palpable. Being her sister, Weiss often forgot just how extraordinary Winter would appear to someone who didn’t see her every day. If the rumours about Badr’s secret harem were correct ̶ ̶ and they were, she’d checked ̶ ̶ Winter should have no problem gaining a private audience.

“No doubt. So we’re agreed?” The matter of her attendance needed to be put to bed.

“Yes.” Winter had a glance out the window as the first light of the day crept over the horizon. “I suppose we should get going. I need to nail some things down before we leave.”

Weiss looked at the rising sun as well. Another day, accompanied by undoubtedly more problems to deal with. She rose from her chair. “I do as well. Thank you for the breakfast.”

“It was no problem. We should try and do it more often.”

“We should.” Together they gathered their purses and Winter tossed her a set of keys from a rack of more than a dozen hanging near the door. “Thought you’d want the convertible.”

Weiss answered Winter’s grin. They both knew she had a soft spot for big engines. Just before Winter opened the door Weiss laid a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re the best sister anyone could ask for. I’d be lost without you.”

“We both know that’s not true but, to be honest, I didn’t know what I was missing before everything. I like having a sister around.”

“So do I.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

With arms lethargic from sleep, Yang flung open the heavy drapes. Light dowsed her. The Vacuan sun hung low in the sky, its harsh brightness causing her skin and hair to glow gold. Not caring that she was in her underwear, she unlocked the large doors and padded out onto the balcony. The polished stonework underfoot was warm. Yang savoured the sensation as she leant upon the artistically carved railing, just taking in the view.

There were ways to wake up, and then there were  _ways_ to wake up. This had to top most of them. The thousands of buildings that constituted the Vacuan capital stretched out below her elevated position; the different periods of expansion and development were clear to see.

Nearest to her, in the oldest districts of the city, traditional Vacuan architecture reigned. Not small houses, but larger constructions loomed; they were built to display the wealth of all the merchant guilds that had once been so vital to Vacuo's growth. Beyond them there was a ring of traditional housing, only broken by modern office blocks with glittering windows.

The first and oldest of the two walls told the tale of the young burgeoning city overgrowing its bounds. Before the fall of Vale and the end of the age of peace, there had even been talk of the possibility of a third wall being constructed.

The city of Alfurat was certainly a sight Yang would remember. It was nowhere near as large as Atlas, nor did it have scores of towering skyscrapers competing to dominate its skyline, but in her opinion the traditional roots of the inner-city were so much more impressive.

And of course, if she had to view a city, she couldn't go wrong with her current location. Like most young girls, she'd once had the dream that she'd marry Prince Charming and live in palace. It hadn't quite worked out like the fables, but she never thought at least part of it would come true.

The residence of King Badr couldn't be described as anything other than a palace, and it was a breathtaking one at that. Situated right in the centre of Alfurat and with extensive grounds, many referred to it as one of the wonders of the world. Its numerous towers and spires allowed the ruler to observe his dominion. Just as she was doing now.

The room she'd been led to when they'd arrived wasn't right at the top of the building, and was likely only a guest room, but they must have thought her an important guest. It was outfitted for royalty. The ceiling was intricately painted, and every piece of furniture was trimmed with gold leaf—including the four poster bed. It was a show of an incalculable fortune meant to impress foreign dignitaries. Yang supposed it had worked.

Her vast expanses of exposed flesh to tingled. The sun that had been her nemesis for months on end was now only an ally for banishing the remaining sleep from her body. Her appearance left much to be desired. Her body was still toned, but her skin was a patchwork of tan marks and pale regions that were always kept hidden. She'd have to find the time to work on that. Laying out here, on her own private balcony, for even an hour a day would work wonders. With the intent to do just that, she turned from the cityscape for the first time and became aware her private balcony wasn't quite as private as she'd believed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Blake asked from the next balcony over. She was lounging with her feet up on a couch, a book in her hand, and a pitcher of amber liquid on the table nearby.

Yang's go-to reaction in circumstances like this was to grin—while desperately trying to work out just how much Blake had seen. Judging by the small smirk, the answer was enough. She decided to play it cool.

"Yeah. Some view isn't it?"

"You could say that." Blake's smirk grew, her eyes roaming up and down, Yang had serious doubts she was talking about the city below; her sleepwear was not exactly concealing.

Most might have been embarrassed, but she'd learned long ago the only way to stave off embarrassment was to try and embarrass the other person more. She made a show of yawning and stretched her arms behind her back, knowing her breasts would be attempting to escape her top. Her fingers traced each of her vertebrae before encountering her shorts. As if going for an itch she pushed beneath them and risked a glance at Blake. She'd pointedly returned to her reading, her cheeks red. Yang laughed, enjoying the victory.

"The book more interesting than the view?"

Blake turned a page and muttered something under her breath about having no shame. Yang could agree with that. Blake probably had a point though. They were guests here, and Vacuo tended to be more towards the modest end of the spectrum. Some of the older natives would probably have a heart attack if they saw her outside like this. Still, her attire was more than worth it for the effect it was having on Blake.

The heat had only exacerbated the thirst caused by sleep, and the jug next to Blake appeared more enticing by the moment. They had rooms next to each other. She could just walk into the hall. But where was the fun in that? With a quick jump her bare foot caught on the edge of the railing, and another propelled her across the half a dozen feet between the balconies. Blake fumbled her book.

"Did you?" Her eyes moved from her balcony to Yang's.

"Yep."

"You're crazy."

"Maybe, but that's why you like me."

Blake massaged her temples. This time Yang missed whatever she muttered. Perhaps it had been a little crazy, but it was a leap either of them could have made with ease. Yang plopped herself down on the couch next to Blake, squeezing her against the back.

"Drink?" Yang reached over to the juice, pleasantly surprised by the surviving ice cubes.

"I somehow knew you didn't make that jump just to see me." It was said in the dry tone that accompanied one of Blake's jokes.

"Well, no," Yang admitted. "You're just the happy bonus."

Yang refilled what she assumed was Blake's glass before slipping a cracker and a chunk of soft cheese into her mouth. Her sleep had left her ravenous.

"This is really good," she said through her full mouth. It was. The luxury of their rooms obviously extended to the food as well.

Blake raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it is. It also happens to be my breakfast."

Yang grunted and took another bite. "Thanks for sharing."

"You know, I do believe that room service would be able to deliver food to your room as well."

"Probably, but yours tastes so much better." She deliberately spoke with her mouth open, giving Blake a perfect view of the mush that was within. It was a strange truth that another person's food was always superior to her own. "Cracker?"

With a long-suffering sigh that hid a smile, Blake finally conceded defeat and marked her place in her book. "If you insist." She accepted the peace offering.

After portioning off what was left of Blake's breakfast, they both sat back and looked out over the city. "You sleep well?" Yang asked.

Blake shrugged. "Sort of. I dunno. I just couldn't get comfortable."

"Really?" After the full day of travel Yang had passed out the moment her head touched the embroidered pillows.

"Yeah. I think… everything just seemed a little too..." Blake struggled to explain her issue.

Yang could sort of understand her dilemma. Though she appreciated the luxury and extravagance, it perhaps wasn't something she would want to be surrounded by all the time. Sometimes a cosy room and a warm fireplace were worth so much more than gold. "Was it the bed?"

"I guess. After sleeping on the ground for who knows how long, I just can't get used to something so soft."

"It was too big as well wasn't it?"

"Exactly," Blake nodded as her main complaint was realised.

"I could make it smaller for you," Yang put on her most lecherous voice, thoroughly pleased that Blake had walked straight into her trap.

Blake punched her playfully on her shoulder and muttered something else under her breath. Yang wished that she possessed even half of Blake's hearing. To hear the contents of those utterances would be interesting to say the least.

"So that's a no is it?"

"Not necessarily."

Yang's heart soared. In truth, her thoughts about the size of the bed had been from her own mind as much as any intent to tease Blake. The two of them had spent so much time huddled in a single sleeping bag that she'd gotten used to drifting off to the gentle sound of Blake's breathing.

"But," Blake continued and Yang grimaced. There was always a 'but'. "I'm not sure we should while we're guests here."

As usual, Blake was the sensible one. The pompous servant who had shown them through the gilded halls to their rooms would have been scandalised to see her attire, let alone to think of the two of them sharing a bed. In Vacuo there were some things that simply weren't done; Yang knew she'd probably done them all at some point. She was not one who held herself to religious conservatism.

"I suppose." Cinder had largely kept them in the dark as to why she had brought them all to Alfurat, or just what role she had here. Judging by their reception, it must have been an important one. She spoke as if she were on personal terms with the king—and it may well have been the case.

She was certainly stuck up enough. If what Raven said was true—and Yang still had her doubts—Cinder might share her blood, but the liquid in her veins provided her no immunity to Cinder's commands. When Cinder gave an order she expected it to be obeyed. No matter what. Even Raven would jump to whatever was requested of her.

It should have been comical. It wasn't. Yang never though she'd let anyone push her around, she was too proud. But an exception was made for Cinder. Cinder scared her. She didn't mind admitting that. It only showed that she was sane. In her life she'd encountered many dangerous people: from hardened criminals and psychopaths like Torchwick and Neo, to bodyguards and soldiers like Erashan, but Cinder topped the pile. To look into her eyes was to stare straight at death. If the mood took her, Cinder could likely kill every person in this palace and there was nothing that anyone could do stop her.

As far as she was concerned, Cinder was a god, or at least as close to one as it was possible to be. Not in a religious sense, but in terms of power. She just existed on a different plane to the rest of them. Her demonstration with Dust had shown them that.

In all honesty, Yang didn't know if she'd made the right choice by agreeing to join her. It had been her choice. Ultimately Blake, her dad, and her uncle, had all followed her. She could have said no, and walked away, but that wouldn't have made the world safer as Cinder insisted she was doing. Maybe made the world safer for Ruby.

As it was, after a few more days spent in Airtafae, Cinder had summoned them. It had been a summons. That was what Cinder did. When she called she expected everyone to drop what they were doing and come running immediately. In a matter of hours an airship had landed and whisked them away. Now they waited. Cinder worked on the basis of keeping everyone in the dark. It was annoying, but at least it meant that, while she and Blake remained unsummoned, they could just enjoy the morning sun.

At some point after their breakfast, their positions on the couch had become reversed. Yang's hopes of working on her tan had come to nought with Blake laying up against her, Blake's soft hair tickling the skin of her cleavage with every breath. It was hard to remain annoyed though, not with how Blake's ears stirred in the soft breeze right in front of her.

As so often happened in moments of idleness, Blake had gone back to reading her book. It had been the one luxury item that Blake had always refused to budge on. No matter the precariousness of their finances. She would happily forgo chocolate, and even Dust, before conceding that she wasn't allowed to buy any more stories to escape into.

For a time Yang tried to read the story over her shoulder, but Blake devoured her books with such an appetite that attempting to keep up was futile. Her eyes trailed away from the pages, and looked out over the cityscape. Alfurat was buzzing with life, but even the sight of the city failed to alleviate her boredom.

"Do you mind?" Yang asked stretching for Blake's nearby scroll.

"No," she seemed more annoyed by her pillow moving under her.

"Thanks. You know you really should put a passcode on this."

"Where's the point? There's nothing that needs protecting."

"What about the nudes I put on there?"

Blake started for a moment before she realised it was a joke. She went back to her book, attempting to ignore the silent giggles coming from underneath her.

Yang's good mood didn't last long. The internet had been a bad idea, but then it so often proved to be these days. Her lack of presence on social media just reminded her of how much her life had changed. Not to mention the news. One look at all the sites  _still_  going on about the Schnee Ball was enough for her to close the browser. Thinking about Weiss enjoying herself was one of the last things she wanted to do.

Not being able to put it off any longer, Yang did the  _very_  last thing she wanted to do. She typed her sister's name into a search engine, praying that she wouldn't get a result. For the last two years it had been a macabre obsession that found her whenever she was near a keyboard. She couldn't help but look. Finding a story covering Ruby's arrest would have been bad enough, but an obituary would be so much worse.

Hitting enter, she squinted her eyes, unwilling to face the truth of what was just about to appear on the screen. Her unconsciously held breath escaped her as no recent news stories topped the results. Ruby was safe, at least until next time. Yang was just about to close the window when the eighth website caught her eye.

_lonelylittlerose.com_

And underneath in the description:

_Please find me. I'm waiting for you._

Yang's breath stilled. There was no way she'd missed that site before, not when it was on the first page of results. Surely it couldn't be? Any other time, she would have clicked on it in a heartbeat. Now though, after the near miss with the Tinmen barely a week ago, the timing was nothing but suspicious. Ozpin had lost track of them. He might be trying another tactic.

Yang had debated long and hard, both internally and with Blake, whether she should create a website with her details on it. Allowing Ruby to get in touch again was her most wanted desire, but a website would have come with a risk. Judging that Ozpin wanted Blake enough to send assassins after her, hacking a webpage would have been nothing. Yang probably could have got in touch with Ruby, but the cost would have been her best friend's life. As much as it had hurt her, she'd chosen the lesser of two evils. Yang could only assume that the reason Ruby hadn't created a website before was similar. Or that it was a trap. She couldn't afford to discount that possibility.

"Hey Blake, what do you think of this?"

"What?" Blake looked up from her book as Yang pointed the site out. "That's… interesting, and…"

"Suspicious," Yang supplied.

"Yeah. Why would Ruby put something online now and not before?"

"I don't know."

"Hang on, give me that." Blake took the scroll and typed in a few words before navigating to a webpage. She was met by her own photo, the one which was on her Beacon ID. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Blake was one of the most wanted people in the world. Yang wasn't in the top five—she was only an accomplice—but the most surprising thing was that neither was Ruby. Blake scrolled down, going through scores of wanted criminals. Ruby was entirely absent.

They exchanged a look. Neither of them knew what it meant. There had been an international warrant out for Ruby's arrest for over two years. It wouldn't have just disappeared without the story breaking in the news. There was something the pair of them was missing. If there was even a chance the website was real, her conscience demanded one course of action.

"Blake I've got to."

"I know. Just hang on." She tapped another app and entered a couple of settings, before passing the scroll back to Yang. "There. The connection's being bounced off two encrypted servers. It should be safe."

"Should?"

"Probably. We used it before. You know when…" Yang didn't need Blake to finish. "Anyway it should be untraceable. Unless there's a physical tap on the outbound connection that is… It's the best we can do. Try it."

The precaution wasn't exactly reassuring when put like that, but it was better than nothing. Her finger trembled with hope and trepidation as it hovered over the link and. Steeling herself, she pressed it.

The website was somewhat of a disappointment. It appeared to have been created by someone with no programming experience. The only professional looking graphic on it was the rose in the upper corner. Yang's throat caught. It was identical to the motif Ruby had always begged her to sew onto new clothes when they were growing up.

The rest of the space on the screen was taken up by a number of large buttons:  _Sis, Dad, Uncle, Bookworm_ , and so on. Ruby, if this was in fact Ruby, had gone to great lengths to avoid displaying any personal data.

She exchanged a look with  _Bookworm_  before clicking her own identifier. The screen went dark before a line of text appeared.

_What was my teddy called?_

That was easy to answer. At least for her. Pausing in the middle of typing the name Yang's excitement grew. Only she and her dad, and maybe Qrow, would have known. And Ruby of course. If the site accepted the correct answer there was every chance that this might be the real thing, and only one person could have created it. As a precaution she deleted what she'd written and entered  _Mr Snuggles._  Nothing happened. She tried the truth.

The teddy bear that she'd bought Ruby in the wake of their mum's death. Nothing more than a futile apology. A way to make amends after one of the many times she'd lost control and shouted at her grieving sister's snivelling. Nothing could ever have made up for that, but her guilt had needed appeasing. As she always did, Ruby had forgiven her in an instant and crushed both her and the teddy in a hug. For over a year after, the teddy bear had barely left her side. She'd treasured it, and had given it a simple name that ultimately came from the one that they had both lost.  _Rose_.

A new question appeared.

_What was my favourite toy?_

The doubts Yang had harboured were beginning to disappear. Sure it might have been possible to gather the answers to these questions, but it was highly improbable. Ruby's favourite toy growing up hadn't been one that she'd owned, it had been Yang's. In fact many probably wouldn't even have classed it as a toy.

_A Red Trailer._

When younger, Ruby had loved nothing more than being placed in that trailer and being pulled along at, what was to her at the time, a terrifying speed. Yang smiled unconsciously. Her sister's desire to constantly go faster really had been the first hints of her Semblance. The pair of them had spent so much time playing with that trailer in their large garden under the watchful gaze of one of their parents. It was those types of memories she would always be able to cherish.

The verification process continued as another question appeared. Ruby—and Yang was certain it was her now—had been thorough when setting up the website. It might have been for her own benefit if she was still on the run, but it also provided security for Yang. She was no longer unsure if she wanted to see what was on the end screen.

The rewards for her effort were better than she could possibly have imagined. An email address and a scroll number. Yang pressed the number with such force and eagerness she almost broke the screen.

They were forced to wait for several long seconds, just staring at the  _waiting to connect_  graphic as the request was routed through the CCT. Then the scroll began to ring.  _One… two… three… four… fi—_

"Hello?" Despite the poor quality of the line, the familiarity of the voice caused Yang's heart to seize.

"Ruby!" Yang almost screamed. Only Blake's quick reactions managed to save the falling scroll. She'd known, she'd always known that Ruby was still alive. That she made it through this. Her fist punched the air, the tempest of emotions overcoming her.

"Yang!" Ruby's reaction was no less ecstatic, but her cry was immediately followed by a curse. That was different. "Sorry. Yang?" She sounded if she couldn't believe her ears. Yang didn't blame her; she was suffering from the same malady.

"Yes," Yang said. Her body seemed unsure whether to laugh or cry. It compromised by doing both. It was her sister on the other end of the line. She was talking to her sister. Ruby. She was talking to Ruby.

"Yang?"

"Yes," her tears were free flowing now.

Ruby laughed. "Hold on." There was the noise of something heavy being dropped to the floor. "Yang?"

"Yes. Ruby it's me. It's me."

"Just one more time. Yang?"

She laughed. "Yes. I've missed you so much." So much she couldn't put it into words.

"I've missed you too. How have you been? Where have you been? What have you been doing?" The torrent of questions flowed from Ruby, and they were ones that Yang wanted to receive answers to just as much as give them.

"How am I now? You don't even need to ask. It's you."

"It's me."

"Can I see you?" She wanted nothing more than to look into the face of the person she loved above all others.

"Umm… I don't know. I don't have a great signal. Hang on, there's a hill not too far away."

The next minute passed with only the sound of running before an invite to a video chat popped up.

For the first time in over two years Yang saw her sister, and there was only one thing she could think to say.

"You're all grown up."

Even on the small screen Yang could see her sister blush. Some things never changed. It might have embarrassed her, but it was the truth. Though Ruby would never stop being her baby sister, it was no longer fair to call her a child. The endearing chubbiness had disappeared from her face, her cheekbones were defined and elegant, and she was wearing her hair long. Her sister had grown into a beautiful woman, just as Yang had always known she would. The exultant grin though, that was all Ruby.

"You know, even though you're there I still can't believe it's you." Ruby moved closer to the screen and consequently her camera. "Wait, is that?"

Yang almost punched herself. Inconceivably, despite having half her body pressed up against her, she'd managed to completely forget Blake's existence. She'd just been too caught up with the momentous occasion and—not wanting to intrude on the special moment between sisters—Blake had managed to render herself almost invisible.

"Yeah it is." Yang held the scroll out at arm's length and pulled Blake into view. "Say 'hi' Blake."

"Hi Blake." Despite Ruby's giggle, Yang elbowed her in the ribs. She did not need Blake to develop that sense of humour. "It's fantastic to see you again Ruby."

"Wow, yeah you too." Ruby's reply wasn't quite as ecstatic as Blake's was. She seemed to be distracted by something and peered at her screen. "Yang… Are you in your underwear?"

"Yeah?"

"With Blake?"

"Umm… yeah."

"And she's ok with that?"

"Yes she is." Blake spoke up.

Ruby laughed. It was such a good laugh. One that even a dodgy connection couldn't diminish. "So please tell me you two are finally a thing now?"

"Sort of," Yang answered. "Wait, what do you mean  _finally_?"

"I might not have seen it at the time, but you were all over each other at Beacon. You've finally seen sense."

"Hold on a minute, I am not going to be lectured on relationships by my baby sister." Ruby might have been all grown up, but there were some things that simply could not stand. It was against the way of the world.

Ruby laughed again, her joy overflowing. "I'm happy for you both. Really. It's fantastic."

Yang choked up and Blake squeezed her hand. No matter what trials and tribulations Ruby had gone through since they'd parted, her sister, her baby sister was still there. Still able to laugh.

"Thank you Ruby," Blake said in Yang's stead.

"It's great, truly. Have you kept in touch with anyone else?"

Yang slapped herself on the forehead. "I'm an idiot. Dad and Qrow are here." She should have mentioned it straight away.

If possible Ruby's smile became broader. "I'd hoped you'd all stayed together. Are they nearby? Can I?"

"Yeah."

"I'll go." Blake extracted herself from the tangle of limbs on the couch. "I'll be right back Ruby."

As much as she would have liked to be polite, Yang simply was unable to wait for Blake's return to continue talking to her sister. "Where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"I think I asked you that question first." In their time apart Ruby's confidence had definitely grown. She would never have talked back in that tone before.

"Fair enough." Yang spun her scroll around and gave Ruby a brief look at the city below her. "I'm in Alfurat."

"Wow. I never quite managed to make it all the way there." Ruby returned the favour. From the top of what must have been a hill all Yang could see were trees in one direction and plains in the other. "As you might have guessed, I'm sort of in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I think eastern Vale, though I might have crossed over the border in the last couple of days." Ruby… she sounded happy about it. As if she were enjoying whatever life had served up to her.

"But why?"

"Uhh…" For the first time some hesitancy showed. Yang watched as Ruby's face contorted in something that might have been fear, or apprehension, or a mixture of the two. Ruby debated something internally before opening her mouth again. "Look, I know this is going to sound crazy. I don't really have any proof, just a lot of coincidences. I'm not going to make you promise to believe it, just promise me you'll consider it. I know it's all true."

"Go on try me." Whatever it was, Yang very much doubted it was severe as Ruby was making out.

"I need you to promise."

"Fine. I promise."

"Thank you. I'm just going to spit it out. You can ask me questions afterwards."

"Ruby." If she let her, Ruby would likely keep talking all day without revealing anything.

"Ok. Over the past two years I've been researching Ozpin. I'm not insane, but he's thousands of years old, likely immortal." Ruby's large silver eyes begged someone to believe her.

Yang worked very hard to keep her face straight. In her most nonchalant voice she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "Oh, yeah."

"Now listen—" Ruby halted, realising that Yang hadn't refuted the statement. "What?"

"Everyone knows that," Yang said as if Ruby had just told her that Remnant wasn't flat.

"What?" Ruby's mouth hung open.

"The sky is blue, water is wet, and Ozpin's an immortal god. It's no biggie. I'm hanging out with another. She's pretty cool. Well, actually she's not."

"What?" Her voice was even smaller and more distraught.

After the third aghast repetition Yang was unable to maintain the charade. The sheer look of bewilderment in Ruby's expression was enough to make her laugh until her sides hurt. When she finally found the composure to pick up her scroll again, Ruby's face had turned a bright shade of crimson.

Yang struggled to breathe. "You're not crazy. Well, if you are the rest of us are as well. Ozpin  _is_  thousands of years old, and you've somehow worked that out by yourself. I just got told. I'm so proud of you." What Ruby had managed all alone was nothing more than miraculous. To have the drive and strength of conviction to keep chasing something which, at first glance, appeared entirely outlandish was incredible.

"You believe me?"

As best as she could through the grainy image, Yang looked straight into her sister's eyes. "I believe you." It was as if the three words lifted a huge weight of Ruby's shoulders. She even appeared to unconsciously stand straighter.

"You can't know how much that means to me. I always thought, somewhere, that I might actually have been crazy. You're the first person I've told."

"You're not. How did you work it out anyway?"

"Stories. Blake's stories in fact. You remember that book she gave me for my birthday? Ozpin appears in a load of them. Well, not him, his sword. The white one, and his Semblance." The explanation was disjointed, as though Ruby was merely repeating her thoughts rather than processing them for other people. It wasn't that surprising after how much time she'd presumably spent along, but Yang was able to follow.

"You worked it out from a book?"

"Not all of it. I've sort of… been an archaeologist. You know finding ruins and lost cities. It's been fun." Ruby made it sound so casual as if anyone could do it.

"Wow. Just wow. Really?"

"Yep. I found the Lost City of Calakmul. I took photos," she added as if she were discussing a holiday, not rediscovering a wonder.

Ruby was truly more remarkable than even Yang remembered. "I hope you took more than a few selfies."

"I might have. I guess I'll just have to show you at some point."

"When?" The eagerness in the single word was palpable. Now that they'd reconnected all Yang wanted to do was to hold Ruby again.

"Umm… I'm not sure. Soon hopefully. But not straight away. As you saw I'm in the middle of nowhere. I'm… sort of busy."

Disappointment dowsed Yang. "Busy? Doing what?"

"Digging. Well, actually I hope there's no digging involved. I've been there, done that. It's really not fun. I think I've found another lead on Ozpin. I just want to check it out first."

"But why? Didn't you hear? I have a much better lead. You can just ask her anything that you want to find out. As long as you come home." For Yang, home had always been where her family and friends were.

Her emphasis on the final word invoked something that appeared like longing and guilt in Ruby. "I know. I will. I want to. It's just…" she shrugged and looked away from the screen, "I dunno. I feel like I'm on the verge of something big. Something massive. It's hard to explain. It's just a feeling I have. This might unravel it all. I keep having dreams where I solve everything. Stop Ozpin. Make the world a better place. And it always starts in the same place."

It didn't surprise Yang that Ruby wanted to make the whole world a better place. She'd always had big dreams. Always fantasised about being the hero. Yang was past that. In truth she didn't think the world would ever get better. Someone would always find a way to mess it up. But Ruby's dream was a beautiful one, one that everyone should strive for, and Yang would do anything for her sister.

"I can help. Whatever you want, whatever you need. Just say the word."

Ruby smiled. It was such a good smile. One Yang had missed so much. No teeth, just curved lips, dimples, and happiness. "I know. But there's not much you can do. Though you mentioned someone else. I take it it's that woman from Vale? The one Ozpin fought."

"Yeah, it is. How'd you know?"

"She is, was, his partner. She's in a lot of the stories as well. The two of them. The two… gods, I suppose."

"It's not just the two of them."

This time it was Ruby's turn to appear surprised. "What?"

"She keeps mentioning others. She's got a plan. I don't know what it is. She hasn't told me. But it's something big." Yang saw the look of horror on Ruby's face. They both knew what had been the consequences of Cinder's last big plan. "I'm not saying we help her. She's probably going to be just as bad as Ozpin is… But Ozpin has Vale. What can we do to stop him? Cinder might be bad news, or she might not be. I still don't know. What I am certain of is that she hates Ozpin. We could use that. If you don't find anything, she must know his weakness."

Yang could have said more. She could have told Ruby just who Cinder was to her, but she didn't want to complicate this predominantly happy moment. Especially when she herself still hadn't formed a solid opinion on  _her grandmother._

"I suppose. But if there's more of them, what do we do? Just the two of them have caused all this. Tearing the world apart… We can't stop them all."

"I don't think it's like that. I think it's just Ozpin and Cinder. The rest are caught in the middle somewhere, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. You said you want to stop what Ozpin is doing, then let's concentrate on doing that first. You go to that place you want to visit, and then you come here, or I'll come to you. Then we can work out what to do next."

No matter what had happened, she was still Ruby's big sister, and making things easier for their sibling was what big sisters did. Regardless of it being a question on a piece of homework… or saving the world.

Ruby took a moment to process what Yang had said before she grinned. "Yeah, thanks. You're awesome. You know that, don't you?"

"I try my best. Now tell me how you've been, truly."

Ruby shrugged. "I've been ok. Better recently. There were some rough patches, but they're behind me now. I'm ok Yang. You don't need to worry."

If only. Yang very much doubted a day would ever dawn where she didn't worry about her little sister. "That's my job Rubes. I'm always going to worry about you. Just like I'm always going to be there for you, and I'm always going to love you."

Ruby moved her scroll closer, almost as if she were trying to pass through the screen. "I love you too. I've only realised how much over the past two years." Her eyes glazed over and she tried and failed to put on a brave smile. "I missed you so much. You, and Blake, and dad, and—"

The door behind Yang banged off the wall and a large figure burst onto the balcony. "Speaking of which… Dad! You'll never guess who's on the phone!"

* * *

 

After that morning there was nothing that could have dampen Yang's mood. Not even being  _summoned_  by Cinder. She doubted her broad smile would fade for days. She must have spent close to another hour talking to Ruby after Blake, her dad, and Qrow had arrived. She would have spent another day if not for Ruby's limited battery. As it was there had been a tearful goodbye and a promise to talk for a short time the following morning. She held that promise close to her heart. Still, being summoned irritated her.

"So what does she want?" Yang asked the figure in front of her.

There was an almost imperceptible pause in Emerald's gait before she continued. It was almost possible to hear her grind her teeth. "You'll find out soon."

"She didn't tell, did she?" Yang often found the best way to get information was to push people from their comfort zones. Though Emerald had at least appeared friendly when they were at Beacon, it had been an act. Emerald had shown zero interest in socialising with them since their reintroduction.

Emerald didn't look back as she replied in a tone meant to halt any further conversation. "She did, but wishes to tell you herself."

Yang laughed. "She didn't. You're just playing the messenger aren't you? What's the bet she orders you out of the room again?"

Emerald spun on her heel at the provocation, her finger raised and threatening. "You are…" she bit down on whatever she was going to say.

"I'm what?" Yang kept her voice light only because she knew it would annoy Emerald more. Since their arrival Emerald and Mercury had been pushed to the side-lines. Mercury didn't care much, but it was clear that Emerald savoured every single moment she had with Cinder. The girl was head-over-heels in love. In love enough for someone as proud as her to act as a mere go-between.

Given free rein, Emerald would likely have been content to throw down right there, but Cinder kept everyone who served her on a tight leash. It might well have been Emerald's wish to punch her, but it would only make her infatuation even more hopeless. It was cruel, but Yang knew she could prod Emerald with almost complete immunity.

"Extremely frustrating." Emerald finished lamely, treating Yang to a look at the back of her head as she started off again.

"So you don't know?" Her question went unanswered. "Well I guess it's above your pay grade." Emeralds fingers twitched towards the pair of revolvers holstered on her back.

"Yang," Taiyang warned.

Yang shot him a glare. Her approach had been paying off. Perhaps his warning was because he didn't want the day he'd reconnected with Ruby to be marred by a fight involving his other daughter, or maybe it was because he sympathised with Emerald's hopeless situation.

Her dad didn't back down. Making use of his experience raising one well-behaved daughter and one unruly one, he met her glare and returned it with interest. Yang blew out her cheeks. She supposed they would find out soon enough.

The extravagance of the palace did not only extend to their rooms. The corridors were floored and walled by polished stone, and the roof was carved with intricate patterns. Jewelled chandeliers threw brilliant displays across the walls as beams of radiance passed through them. Any servants that saw their group moved out of the way with a low bow and didn't rise until long after they'd passed.

Emerald led them to one of the state rooms—one not big enough to host a banquet or dance, but still more than sufficient for them. The wide windows were thrown open and sunlight blazed in. If not for the silent air-conditioning the room would have been unbearable. As it was, Cinder lounged in the rays. In truth, it wouldn't be fair to call it lounging, Cinder had a poise which never left her. Still, she seemed to be making the most of the luxury.

Raven appeared decidedly less comfortable, but then she'd been content to spend her nights in a cave rather than an apartment when in Vale. The third woman in the room was one Yang had never seen before. Plump and short with mousy brown hair, she'd dressed for comfort rather than style. Despite that she appeared to be at complete ease. She studied the group as they arrived. What she decided, Yang couldn't tell.

"Take a seat," Cinder addressed them at large before turning to Emerald. "You," Emerald tensed as Yang's prediction played through her mind, "may stay." Emerald couldn't help but smirk at Yang the moment Cinder looked away.

Yang sat next to Blake. The stranger's gaze had followed her. "She is your daughter?" she spoke to Raven.

"Yes."

"You must be very proud."

"Of course."

Yang's heart clenched. Raven might have abandoned her, but now she could at least understand what had been going through her mind at the time. What neither of them was able to change was that Raven had given birth to her, and that she was proud of the woman Yang had grown to be in her absence.

Emerald sat on the same couch as Cinder, close enough that she was pushing the limits of personal space. Her eyes lingered on the smooth thigh exposed by Cinder's high-cut dress. She might not have been interested in Emerald, but Cinder still took great pleasure from the attention. Almost as if it were without thought, she swapped her crossed legs over.

"Emerald sweetie, could you fetch me another drink?" Cinder dangled her empty glass between her fingers.

"Sure," Emerald jumped up only too eager to please. In Yang's opinion it was sad; she'd been on the end of a hopeless crush before, only she'd come to her senses. It didn't appear Emerald ever would as long as Cinder continued to lead her on.

As Emerald busied herself at the table, Cinder spoke to the room at large. "I think that introductions are in order first." She gestured at the stranger. "This is my good friend Juno." Juno inclined her head in silent acknowledgement.

_Friend_. Yang hadn't thought that Cinder was the sort of person to have any friends… unless, "Is she?"

"Am I what dear?" As Juno spoke a wine bottle materialised in her hand. Across the room Emerald gasped, her fingers clutching at thin air over a half-filled glass.

Yang stared at the magic bottle. Sure it could have been a Semblance, one different from any she'd heard of before, but… from the side Raven nodded.

"That was overly dramatic," Cinder raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

Juno chuckled and topped up her own glass before setting the bottle down. "I don't believe you of all people can accuse me of theatre. Or are you oblivious of where we are currently sitting?"

"It was a convenient place to meet. Besides, we're guests of the king."

"Ah yes, the king. I take it he won't be joining us?"

"No. This doesn't concern him."

"I see. I wonder whether he would share the same opinion?"

"Regardless, he's engaged." Cinder appeared to be enjoying the verbal joust with someone she classed as her equal. "And weren't you just telling me that you were pressed for time?"

"Indeed, Dione won't see to itself." Juno admitted her defeat, leaning back against her chair. "Shall we proceed?"

"Let's." Cinder turned her attention back to the rest of them, on Yang especially. "Back in Airtafae you all gave me your word that you would obey. You all harboured a desire to put right the wrongs that  _Councillor_  Ozpin has committed. I can give you that opportunity."

Yang had agreed before, but only because she thought stopping Ozpin was the right thing to do. Now that Ruby had set her sights on the same goal, Yang knew she would do almost anything to accomplish it.  _Almost_  anything. They all knew what Cinder's previous plan had resulted in.

"And I will say this out of courtesy more than anything, but if anyone breathes so much as a word of this conversation outside of this room, I will kill them." The threat was delivered matter-of-factly as if would be a mundane task that had to be accomplished.

"With that out of the way, we are going to stop Ozpin."

"How?" Yang asked.

"He has a weakness. And we are going to exploit it."

That came as news to almost all of them; only Raven and Juno didn't appear surprised. Yang had talked about him at length with Blake, and the conclusions of their talks had been that Ozpin was nigh on untouchable. He had a country, a military, Tinmen, an alliance with Atlas, and, even ignoring all that, was perhaps the strongest fighter on the planet. They hadn't even been able to begin concocting a way to loosen his grip on power.

"Then why haven't you?"

Juno answered. "It has always been a last resort. And, in all honesty, we are unsure just what the consequences will be. But, it's the only option. Ozpin has always been the strongest of us, and now he has gone too far. He won't listen to us. He won't stop." Sorrow filled her eyes as she spoke. "He is taking us down a path that we never dared to tread for we know what lies at the end. Though it saddens my heart, we can't allow that future to come to pass. No matter the cost."

A shiver ran down Yang's spine. Just how many terrible acts had been carried out under the justification of 'no matter the cost'? She didn't know. Surely too many.

There was just something about the way Juno and Cinder spoke, or maybe their poise while doing so, that cemented the fact that they different from everyone else. If Cinder was to be believed they had seen civilizations rise and fall, it was no wonder they didn't set much in store by the way of a normal person's life. To an immortal, all their lives must have been flickering candle flames just waiting to be snuffed out.

"I'm not going to let you hurt any more people."

Though Cinder's face hardened at the outburst, a warm smile appeared on Juno's face. "So precious. Child, you need not fear. The cost I mentioned was to us."

"You?"

"Yes. Ozpin's weakness is one shared by us all."

"What is it?"

"That is not for you to know. Not right now." Cinder cut across Juno's answer. "All you need to know is that is exists and there is plan to exploit it. The discussion of which is why I summoned you. The key to toppling Ozpin's rule lies in a very dangerous location. It lies at the heart of Menagerie."

It might have been intended to be a reveal, but Raven had spilled the beans beforehand. Only Qrow reacted overtly.

"And why the hell would we want to go there?" Up to this point he'd kept his own council, but at the mention of the island that was taught in schools to be both the origin of the Grimm and the Faunus, he spoke up.

Cinder's eyes smouldered, her brow narrowing at the curtness of his question. "Were you not listening?"

Few would have missed the very real danger in her tone. Qrow was one of the few.

"Oh I was. I just must have misheard. I've actually been to Menagerie." Yang's head snapped around. That was one tale that Qrow had never shared with her. "Back when I was young and stupid. When I thought making a name for myself and coin were the most important things in life. We thought we'd find our fortunes on the island. That we'd return rich. Instead, though we captured our cargo, only a fraction of us made it back to the ship. Anyone who seeks to go there is a fool." He looked straight at Cinder as he said it, the shadows of lost comrades heavy behind his eyes.

Perhaps sensing the precipice of danger they were approaching Juno drew their attention to her. "It will be dangerous yes, but it can't be avoided. That's where all of you come in. You will be the vanguard of the expedition."

"No." Qrow glared at both her and Cinder. "I will not allow you to put Yang or Blake in danger."

"They are adults. They must decide for themselves."

Yang understood where Qrow was coming from. Evidentially the memories of his last trip to Menagerie still haunted him. His concern was endearing, but Juno was right. They were both adults. They'd taken down some of the most dangerous Grimm in the world over the past two years. They couldn't be called inexperienced hunters any longer. At the end of the day, if this would help Ruby, she was willing to put herself at risk. All it took was a look at Blake to know that she would be by her side.

The way her jaw jutted made her internal decision obvious; Qrow knew that if he continued that line of argument he would lose. "It's irrelevant anyway. You're crazy if you think the eight of us will be able to achieve whatever you've concocted. You'd need an army."

Cinder smirked. "And we will have one. King Badr has been most cooperative. Your worries are well placed. To reach the centre of Menagerie will be difficult, but you would do well to remember that there are people, myself included, who are much, much smarter than you are. This is not an operation that was thrown together. It has been meticulously planned. It will be successful. With or without your help. As it is, you all indicated that you wished to bring a halt to Ozpin's tyranny. I am giving you the opportunity."

Cinder's generosity didn't appear to placate Qrow much, but Cinder's remarks had reminded Yang of an old tale her mum had once told her. There was a legend—an old, old legend—that spoke of Menagerie and the supposed riches at its centre. The tale might have been full of glittering gems and gold, but she didn't think that Cinder was much interested in wealth.

"What's in the centre?" she asked.

Cinder sipped her wine, letting the tension build. "No doubt you've heard the stories. There are significant mineral and Dust deposits on Menagerie, but any attempt to mine them ultimately proved futile. The Grimm are far too numerous. But as to what's at the centre? I assume you've all heard of Miliaturris, but you should be more interested in what guards the thousand spires."

* * *

 

"A dragon," Yang breathed. It must have been at least the dozenth time she'd repeated it since leaving Cinder's presence.

"I think you've mentioned it once or twice," Blake said with a smile. They were sitting at a table on her balcony, looking out of the darkening city.

"But a  _dragon_ ," Yang emphasised the word. "A dragon. She had to have been kidding right?"

"You know, I don't believe Cinder has much of a sense of humour."

"But… they can't exist." Dragons were from fairy tales. From stories of knights, of Uther Pendragon, of wizards. They weren't real.

"Yang, you've just spent the afternoon talking to two people who quite possibly predate the written word. I've given up trying to decide what is plausible any more. Cinder said there's a dragon, so there's a dragon. I'm more concerned of how we're going to fight it if it wakes up."

Blake's logic was sound. She had spent several hours talking to two people who also belonged in a fairy tale, and then the rest of the afternoon quizzing Raven as to whether any of what they said was true. Even now with the setting sun, she hadn't quite managed to absorb it all.

"Yeah, let's hope it doesn't." The idea of an angry dragon charging at her was not one which filled her with anticipation. "Do you think we should ask anyone?"

Though Cinder had sought to assure them that the forces she'd prepared would be sufficient, she'd also suggested hiring others. As long as they were certain they wouldn't leak any details of the operation of course.

Ruby was a given. Even though Yang felt something similar to what Qrow must have, Ruby was no longer a little girl. She'd probably done more than any of them to stop Ozpin so far. It was only right that the opportunity was offered to her. Though she had no doubt of Ruby's skill, if there was really a dragon on Menagerie, there was one person she wanted to have her back above all others.

"I was thinking Velvet," Blake took a sip of her wine. Yang nodded. There was a strange, furtive energy filling her tonight, but at least she and Blake were on the same page there. If there was anyone capable of going toe to toe with a dragon, Velvet was that person.

"So was I. Do you think she'd want to?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. She didn't go back to Vale after being discharged, and she saw what Ozpin did to the White Fang as well. I'd say there would be a good chance."

"Who else?" The intensity of her stare appeared to unnerve Blake; she looked away at the rising moon. The lunar light played across her features and caused shadows to dance in her rippling hair. Blake had always looked better in the twilight. Not because it hid her, or maybe because of it. She was suited to it perfectly. Blake was as comfortable in the shadows as anyone else was in the sun.

Yang drained her glass. The wine was good, very good. Anything would have been after living on the frontier for the best part of two years, but this bottle had come from the king's own cellar. It was older than she was, and the richness of it had only mellowed with age. Between them they'd already finished off two bottles and she was of a mind to ask for another.

Blake shrugged. "I'm not sure. I think we'll need to sleep on it."

"I suppose." Mainly to stop herself from talking, she shoved a spoonful of gateau into her mouth. The weary non-committal nature of Blake's answer had been a subtle suggestion that they change subjects. They were meant to be on a date after all.

As locations went it would have been harder to pick a better one. They had fine food, fantastic wine, and quite the incredible view. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd had a date anywhere better. But the location never mattered. Only the person that she was with. She and Blake would have been content with a muddy field; they'd eaten in much worse places.

Still, it always felt good to be able to treat the special someone in her life. Technically she might not have been paying for all this, but it had been her idea, and she had made the arrangements completely unknown to her girlfriend.

It might have been Blake, someone who she knew intimately, but as she swallowed her food she struggled to come up with a topic of conversation that didn't revolve around Menagerie. It really shouldn't have been that hard. She'd always considered herself to be quite the smooth talker, especially on dates, but right now her mind was blank.

As the heavy drape of silence weighed on her, she blurted out her first thought. "How's your book?"

Blake started slightly, tearing her gaze away from the vista. "Sorry?"

If she were on a date with anyone else Yang would have been glad of the diminishing light hiding her blush. As it was Blake would be able to see the evidence of her embarrassment perfectly. Really? That was the best she could come up with? But now she was committed to it.

"Your book." The book in question still rested on the couch on the other side of the balcony and she pointed at it. "The one you were reading this morning. How is it?"

"Oh… it's good." Blake's eyes glittered as she attempted to deduce why Yang had mentioned it. If there was one fault Blake had it was that she always thought there was an alternate meaning behind every utterance. Not that Yang's brain had simply been unable to come up with a topic of conversation more interesting.

"Could you read it to me?" She loved listening to Blake read. The sound of her voice. The way her tongue glided over the words, transforming them into a soft, melodic symphony. More than once it had been enough to send her into a peaceful sleep. Now though, she had something different in mind. The subject of reading might have been clumsily formed, but her mind was racing ahead with it.

"Sure," Blake opened her jaws in a wide yawn and massaged her stomach, "as long as you get it for me."

That was a bargain Yang was more than willing to accept. She jumped up but, rather than return to her own seat, she settled down across Blake's lap. "Can you start from the beginning?" she pleaded softly, her mouth a scant inch from Blake's ear.

As so often happened, Blake decided to just roll with the change in her girlfriend's behaviour. They shifted around in the chair, attempting to get comfortable.

Yang ended up with her head resting on Blake's shoulder, the subtle fragrance of raven hair washing over her, the warmth of Blake's breast pressed against her side and an arm wrapped around her. She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs. To be held was a special thing, one that many didn't get to experience. Too often it was her doing the holding, her providing the strength, at this moment she wasn't. Blake cradled her. In the lunar light and a soft timbre, she began to read.

_Into this wild abyss,  
The womb of Nature_ , _and perhaps her grave,_  
Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire,  
But all these in their pregnant causes mixed  
Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight,  
Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain  
His dark materials to create more worlds,  
Into this wild Abyss the wary Fiend  
Stood on the brink of Hell and looked a while,  
Pondering his voyage…

They didn't make it far into the story. Yang was sure it was a fine book, and Blake's voice brought it to life, but something else enticed her far more. It was the same for Blake. Halfway through a sentence, their individual resolves crumbled at the same time. Their lips met, and the book tumbled to the cooling stone, entirely forgotten.

If there was an advantage to the complexities of their relationship, the number of false starts and near collapses, it was that their lust for each other had been somewhat dulled. Not that it didn't exist, but they both knew what the other had to offer. They didn't frantically mash their lips together. They didn't fight. They took it slowly, tenderly. Savouring the perfection of the moment. Of the balcony beneath the stars and the moon. Of the person who they were sharing it with.

Yang traced each of Blake's ribs with a finger through her thin shirt. She nibbled Blake's ear. She kissed her neck, cherishing the tang of her sweat. She brought her lips upwards again. To face Blake. To see her eyes glitter in the lunar light, impossibly bright and alive. And she saw all the feelings that she harboured deep within her soul, where they were safe, futile, reciprocated. Their mutual love flowed between them. They kissed again, their lips barely brushing each other's.

Yang rose, pulling Blake up after her. She'd done this so many times, she'd done it with Blake, but she'd never felt like this before. She'd never felt so vulnerable, but at the same time so safe. So apprehensive, but so eager. Gently, slowly, she set her fingers to work unbuttoning Blake's shirt. One at a time. There was no needy ripping, no haste, only great care, a need to cherish every moment.

Blake did the same. There didn't need words. No complications. They both knew. They'd both always known. There a link between them, perhaps forged at Beacon, but steeled by the world. That they were still together was lunacy, a miracle.

They were living in a fairy tale.

As their clothes lay pooled on the floor. As the wind cooled her fiery skin. As Blake's hand pressed her abs, Yang allowed herself to be guided down on the soft cushions of the couch. Blake followed her, entwined herself in her arms. Their hearts beat as one.

And in the open air, on a palace balcony, looking out over one of the oldest cities on the planet, beneath the shattered moon and bathed in its light, the pair of them made new memories.

Ones they would remember.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

Jaune pulled up at the curb as the vehicle in front of him started off. He glanced at Pyrrha in the passenger seat. In her large sunglasses and with a silk scarf wrapped around her neck, she seemed perfectly at home in the sports car. It suited her in a way it would just never be able to suit him.

Pyrrha smiled. In many ways it was the perfect smile, lots of white, even her eyes appeared overjoyed. It was a smile that would be expected on the front of a magazine. It was a celebrity's smile ̶ ̶ or at least the smile of someone who didn't have to worry about finances. He supposed that was what they were going for.

The moment his hand reached for the door it swung open. The uniformed valets who'd approached as they arrived had just been waiting for them to decide to exit the vehicle. Leaving the keys in the ignition, Jaune did just that. On the other side of the car Pyrrha stepped out much more gracefully, keeping her legs together lest she give a waiting photographer an unexpected boon ̶ ̶ a habit that had been instilled in her from childhood.

"Thanks." Jaune exchanged the numbered chip the valet offered for a crisp fifty lien note. Perhaps too much, but Pyrrha had told him to be generous.

In a practiced motion the valet deftly pocketed the money. "Thank you, sir. Your bags will be delivered to your room." Their suitcases were already being wheeled away. All in all it their arrival had been the epitome of well-choreographed efficiency but, then again, you get what you pay for.

Pyrrha took his arm just under the elbow and, after a subtle nudge, they started to climb the stairs towards the brass-framed glass doors. The waist-coated doorman bowed them into the atrium of the hotel.

It wasn't exactly large ̶ ̶ the walls of the city didn't allow for extensive footprints ̶ ̶ but it was just as grand as the outside of the building suggested. The floor underneath was polished walnut, patterns spiralling between the planks. The sun streamed in through large windows, and where its rays couldn't reach the walls drew attention to artwork hung upon them. Pyrrha might have been used to this ̶ ̶ her family was rich even without her own earnings ̶ ̶ but he'd grown up with seven siblings. When they'd been on holidays, they'd stayed in the most cost-effective hotels they could find. Certainly none of the ones they'd visited had had a water feature.

Pyrrha stopped in front of the check-in desk. The woman behind smiled at them prettily; in her traditional Mistrali dress she was as much an ornament as the art on the walls. "Welcome to the Amanfayun. How may I be of service?"

"We have a reservation." Pyrrha pushed her sunglasses up into her hair.

"May I take your name?"

"May Zedong."

The receptionist's keyboard clicked, and a card slid from a slot. "Welcome. Your room has already been paid for. Two nights. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Might I enquire as to the reason for your stay?"

Pyrrha clutched Jaune's arm more tightly and leant into him. "It's our three year anniversary."

Jaune's stomach lurched, the terrible realisation striking him before his more rational mind took hold. Surely it couldn't have been. The date appeared in the corner of his vision. He let out the captured breath he was holding. It wasn't. Just another lie. He could only wish that Pyrrha had told him before dropping that bombshell.

"Congratulations. You two look fabulous together." The woman sounded completely sincere, but then she wouldn't be very good at her job if she didn't. "I'm sure you'll find the room much to your liking. Dinner service begins at half past five and ends at eleven in the room just to your left. Will you be requiring breakfast?"

Pyrrha rubbed up against his shoulder, a perfect impression of someone still deeply in love. Or maybe it wasn't an impression? Pyrrha did love him. "If we manage to find time." Jaune blushed at the not so subtle suggestion in her tone, but the receptionist must have experienced it daily.

"Well if you don't, room service is available twenty-four hours a day. Just dial seven from any internal phone. Your room is on the eighth floor, you'll need your keycard to use the elevators. If you have any issues or requests, dial zero for reception and we'll be happy to take care of them. We aim to make your stay here memorable! That should be everything." She passed Pyrrha the room card. "Thank you for choosing the Amanfayun, and have a brilliant day."

Pyrrha thanked her and the pair of them moved off. With their bags already whizzing towards one of the service elevators, they entered one of the larger ones. The attendant glanced at their keycard before inserting his own and pushing a button. Jaune barely felt the elevator accelerate, but his exact velocity appeared in the corner of his vision.

"Your room is four doors down on the left." The attendant ushered them out. This time it was Pyrrha who passed him a note. Jaune was just glad he hadn't been the one to book the rooms. If this was how much it cost just to tip the staff, he dreaded to think how much more expensive the two nights had been.

It might have been expensive, but Jaune had to admit that it was probably worth it. Despite being in a high-rise, the hotel sought to reclaim the traditional roots of the city's settlers. The room décor was a blend of dark, rich wood, and pristine white. There wasn't much in the way of technology, a TV flush with the wall and that was about it. With the wooden beams overhead that couldn't possibly be structural, it was almost as if they'd stepped into the past.

"What do you think?" Pyrrha ran her hands along the drapes hanging from the four-poster bed.

"Umm… yeah." Pyrrha's eyes narrowed at the ineloquence of his reply. "I mean. It's great. I love it." He could certainly see a couple celebrating an anniversary here. With the sunken stone bathtub that could have been a small pool, there would really have been no need for them to leave for the duration of their stay.

There was a knock on their still open door. "Where would you like your bags?"

"Just over there." Pyrrha directed him to the far side of the room.

As the bellhop neared her, his gleaming brass-buckled shoe slipped on the tiled floor. Weighed down by both their suitcases he collided heavily with Pyrrha, and it was only her strength that kept them both upright. Still entwined together they stumbled several paces to the side. Pyrrha came away holding her ribs.

"Are you ok?" Jaune started forwards, but Pyrrha kept him at arm's length. She sucked in air through her gritted teeth, her eyes screwed up.

"I'm sorry. I just slipped." As an entry-level position the bellhop was just a teenager; his expression was aghast as he saw the pain on his guest's face. "I'm sorry," he repeated, no doubt the possible grievous consequences of his mistake flowing through his mind.

"It's ok," Pyrrha hissed. From the pain present in her voice it was anything but. "It was accident. There's no harm done."

"I think I should call for a doctor."

"No." Pyrrha put on a shaky smile, the lines around her eyes still tight. "I'm fine. There's no need for you to worry."

"Are you sure?"

Pyrrha laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Please, don't think any more of it."

"Umm… ok." Still appearing unsure the bellhop backed towards the door, his body language contrite. As he left the room with a final apology, Jaune couldn't help but be glad he hadn't waited around for a tip.

The door swung shut and he turned to see Pyrrha smiling, all traces of pain forgotten, and a keycard rolling through her fingers.

"That was smooth." In many ways it scared him just how good an actress Pyrrha was ̶ ̶ he'd actually been worried for her despite being clued in ̶ ̶ and how easily she'd managed to steal the boy's security card. He'd been with her when she'd been forced to learn these skills after his  _death_ , but they'd only gotten smoother over time.

"Pretty good huh? With luck he'll just figure the card I gave him stopped working. I doubt he'll want to mention anything that happened here to his manager. So what do you think?" In complete light of the actual reason they'd booked into the hotel, she spun around gesturing at their room.

Jaune grunted.

"Is that all?" Pyrrha scowled at him as if she'd actually made a reservation for their anniversary, and his apathy towards it was a slight on her.

"I mean, yeah it's nice." He waved his arms around in a half-hearted way. "I'm just nervous that's all."

Pyrrha stroked the skin of his cheek. It was perfectly smooth, despite how he hadn't shaved for two years. A reminder that he wasn't human. A beneficial reminder perhaps, but a reminder all the same. Still, his nerves worked ̶ ̶ or whatever passed for them these days. The touch was so soft, so caring, so loving. Any of the ire that had leaked from Pyrrha moments before was gone. He knew that her mood swings was just another facet of the damage he'd caused her.

"It's ok to be nervous Jaune. It's all going to be over soon. Then we can do whatever we want with our lives." There was such hope in her voice, such optimism, and it broke him. They would never be able to get on with their lives. The lives Pyrrha wanted just weren't possible anymore.

He longed to say that. To confront her. But he couldn't. He couldn't hurt her any more than he already had. This was her hope. Her last few fingernails on the cliff of sanity that she perpetually hung off. He could let her have this. "Yeah. You're right."

Pyrrha pecked him on the cheek. "You'll see. I booked two nights for a reason."

There was no mistaking just what she intended them to do tomorrow. Jaune did his best to appear excited. He should have been. Even without knowing who she actually was most men and some women would have jumped at the chance of sharing Pyrrha's bed. She was incredibly attractive, her body toned and smooth, but most of all she loved him. Completely. Entirely. Anyone else would have called her the perfect girlfriend.

She was. It was he who wasn't the perfect boyfriend. He tried. He really did. It was just impossible to force yourself to love someone. At times, he felt his old feelings stir within him ̶ ̶ when they were just together watching TV, walking along the river, doing normal things. In those moments he'd remember the girl he'd met at Beacon, the girl who'd so completely captured his heart. But then maybe hours, maybe weeks later, something else would happen and the perpetuity of hurt would be restored. He did love her still. He felt that. Only the purity of what had once been their love had been corrupted by the cruel world they'd both dared to exist in.

Pyrrha took his silence for assent. Rooting through their suitcases, she tossed him a shirt right from the bottom. The hotel's logo was stitched in gold on dark silk. It was slightly old, once thrown out and thought destroyed, but the information broker that Pyrrha had gone to before had managed to source it.

Just as he'd managed to source the other information Pyrrha had  _politely_  requested. They hadn't chosen this hotel just because it was extravagant. The delegates from Enerdyne were staying here while the negotiations with the Mistrali government took place.

The discovery of what Pyrrha had been planning had originally filled him with dread. The nightmares that were oh so real resurfacing from their fleeting crypt. He'd pledged to have nothing to do with this. To not follow Pyrrha down the eroded path to ruin again. He'd sworn that to himself. And, like he so often did, he'd broken his promise. He might not have been human any longer but, with any vestige of good conscience, he hadn't been able to let her go into danger alone. He would be beside her, in the best of times, and, as it so often proved recently, in the worst of times.

The information broker hadn't been able to provide them with certain information that Joseph was here, but there would be people who knew where he was. They would find him, and perhaps find a resolution at the same time.

"Are you ready?" Pyrrha attached a name plate to her front pocket. She had changed as well, a pencil skirt and blouse giving her every appearance of a middle manager. With the pickpocketed keycard the elevators should be able to take them to whatever floor they desired.

"Yeah." Jaune bounced on his toes, attempting to psyche himself up for whatever they would encounter. It was close to impossible. He'd made only one bargain with Pyrrha; no one died today. She'd accepted. Whether she'd stick to her promise was another story altogether.

"Ok then. Let's go." There was no need for them to go over the intricacies of the plan again; they both knew it by heart.

The corridor outside was quiet, almost silent. Any errant noise was absorbed the thick carpets that maintained the tranquil sanctity of the hotel. Jaune mirrored the professional smile that Pyrrha had fixed on her face. He was a member of the staff. If anyone saw them, he was only too happy to help.

Rather than head for the main elevators they'd arrived in, they took a left out of their room and headed towards the ones meant for the staff. It was a risk. There was always the chance they'd encounter someone who could call their bluff, but it was the only option. The security and privacy that the hotel provided its, often famous, guests meant that the stairs were alarmed and only for use in emergencies.

The indicator on the elevator wasn't digital; floor by floor a hand on a dial indicated its progress towards them. Jaune couldn't quite keep his leg still. He didn't know how Pyrrha appeared so calm, so composed. All of this was so foreign to him. The deception, trespassing, everything. His mind wouldn't stay at rest. Stay focussed on what they were doing. Instead every single possible way that this whole thing could come crashing down around them appeared before him in a vivid kaleidoscope of catastrophes.

He imagined a staff member stumbling across them, a guest whom they simply couldn't deal with, even Joseph standing in the elevator when it arrived. As it was, the reveal as the doors slid open was anti-climactic and utterly desired. The pair of them stepped into the empty metal box.

Despite the minor success his stomach didn't stop squirming. As the doors slid shut he almost laughed at the realisation. His body always surprised him. He didn't even have anything approaching a normal stomach that he knew of, so just why did he feel just like every time he'd had to stand up before a class and make a report?

"What?" Pyrrha's voice in the confined space made him jump.

"Oh, nothing." He wouldn't be able to explain any of this to her.

As usual, the answer of 'nothing' didn't satisfy her. But at least here she didn't have time to drag an explanation from him. "Well, focus please."

Jaune attempted to pull himself away from the precipice of nerve-induced giggles. Pyrrha slotted the stolen card into the control panel and, for a brief moment, they both held their breath. The light went green.

It turned out that the Amanfayun spent the majority of its revenue on the well-being of its guests. The main elevators were quiet enough to have a whispered conversation and smooth enough that not a drop of a full cup of coffee would be spilt. The staff elevators were not. It was likely that they hadn't been renovated in decades. The one they were in juddered as it rose, the ratchets at the side clanked on the metal teeth, the gears overhead whined. It must have taken them three times longer to ascend half the distance, arriving at the penultimate floor.

They knew mostly what to expect. They'd managed to get the schematics of the layout of the building, but it was still a relief to see that they hadn't changed. If their information was right, three quarters of the floor had been booked for Enerdyne's representatives. The largest of the rooms was the best place to start.

"…look I don't know what he might have said, but I can only tell you what information I know. If you want more you'll have to get us both on the line. Fine… fine…"

Even through the walls meant to be soundproofed his enhanced hearing managed to pick up the conversation. He wouldn't have reacted if not for the slightly annoyed footsteps heading towards the door a few rooms ahead of them. Pyrrha halted at his touch.

The volume of the conversation suddenly increased and the man burst into the corridor, slamming his door behind him. His gaze ran over the pair of them, but their uniforms rendered them close to invisible. They may as well have been part of the décor.

Like an animal that had decided there was no prey in front of it, the tension left Pyrrha's body. She'd come to the same conclusions he had. The man striding towards them bore no resemblance to any of the delegates they'd seen. They moved against the wall, getting out of the way of the very annoyed, but ultimately irrelevant, guest. The frustrated clicking of the button for the elevator was their cue to speed up.

The layout and decorations of the corridor were identical to the one outside their own room. Deep blue carpets, cream walls, and money. Lots and lots of money. The doors displayed it in spades too. Be it the mahogany, the gleaming handle and hinges ̶ ̶ all bereft of slightest hint of any smudges ̶ ̶ or the ostentatiousness of the names.

They came to a halt outside of the Shèng Lǜzhōu suite. A news channel was playing inside. Jaune nodded, and Pyrrha rapped on the door with her knuckles. There was the soft sound of something being set down and then footsteps.

"Hi," the man sounded tired as he opened one side of the double doors. The other blocked Jaune from his view. "Can I help you?"

"Good evening," Pyrrha answered him with a slight bow of her head. "Mr Takeda I presume."

"Yes." At least that was a plus. He might not have been Joseph, but he was the most senior of the delegates.

"Excellent. I'm terribly sorry to disturb you tonight, but we've detected that there may be an issue with your water pressure. As you know the Amanfyun wishes to make your stay memorable, so could I be a dreadful bother and check?"

Her perfect smile and monogrammed blouse painted her every bit a middle-manager and that was exactly what Hagane saw. With a resigned sigh he stepped backwards. "Sure."

"Excellent. We won't be more than a few moments."

Jaune followed Pyrrha into the room and for the first time Hagane saw him. He might not have recognised the person who'd terrorised numerous Enerdyne facilities, but he recognised one of the creations he'd no doubt spent hours building. No amount of hair dye could mask who Jaune really was.

The moment they locked eyes the breath left Hagane's lungs and he half-staggered backwards a step. "How?" he breathed.

The door swung shut of its own accord, bringing a brief instant of commotion to the tranquillity of the hotel as it slammed. In a flash, Pyrrha moved behind him and clamped her hand over his mouth. In her powerful and expertly applied hold, few would have been able to break free. All he could do was squirm and grunt.

"We're just here to talk." There was a great implication behind the way she said it. They were just here to talk, as long as he cooperated.

The pair of them had their roles to play, predetermined and much discussed. Jaune couldn't say he much liked the idea of intimidating someone, or any of this really, but certain dynamics within an interrogation had been proven to work time and time again.

"We're not going to hurt you," Jaune tried to keep his voice comforting and soft. Given what Hagane may or may not be putting together about just who Pyrrha was, it was only appropriate for him to play the  _good_  cop.

Pyrrha had the bad cop nailed down. An expensive metal pen rose from a nearby table, it floated through the air, and came to rest hovering in front of Hagane's eye. With a dreadful slowness it rotated until the nib was inches from his retina. His eye darted around, scared and panicked almost beyond reason.

"Now I need you to listen to me," Pyrrha growled, her lips a hair's breadth from his ear. Jaune barely recognised her voice. It was cold to the point the humanity had withered away. "In a few second I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth. If you cry out, or make a noise, that pen will go straight through your eye. It won't kill you, but believe me when I say it will be exquisitely painful… And all that you will achieve with your brief moment of bravery is that you will never be able to see from that eye again. No one will hear you. And afterwards, we'll try again with your other eye. So… I think it would be best if you keep quiet. Do you agree?"

Listening to Pyrrha deliver that speech, in that voice, with that snarl on her face, was truly terrifying. It was almost as if a different person standing there. One consumed by hatred. Pyrrha had been that person at one point, when she'd been attempting to avenge his murder, but he'd hoped his presence over the past two years had banished her. It hadn't, and that Pyrrha was in this room. He could only hope it was mostly an act. That she would never blind him just for calling for help.

Hagane believed she would, and with the use of her Semblance he'd put two and two together. The blood that had been in his face when he'd struggled against her had drained away. The pristine sheets on the bed had more colour. He nodded against her grip.

"Good," in a complete contrast to before her tone was suddenly light and cheerful. Slowly she removed her hand. The marks of her fingers were cruelly defined on Hagane's skin. Her threat had worked. He barely dared to breathe lest he wake her ire. Pyrrha pushed him down into a chair, the pen following him still.

Seeing him sitting there, too petrified to even risk moving, his eyes wide and afraid, Jaune hated every part of himself that had led to this. He'd always believed he was better than this; that he would never sink to this level. That he would never become a criminal, and that he would always be able to look his younger sisters in the eye and tell them with pride about his job. He now knew he was no better.

Jaune crouched down in front of Hagane, getting on eye level, and swatted away the menacingly hovering pen. "We're not going to hurt you," he repeated, only wishing it was a guarantee he could make. "Do you recognise me? Do you know who I am?"

It was a sign of just how effective Pyrrha had been that he didn't dare to speak.

"It's ok. You can answer."

Hagane's whisper was barely audible as it escaped from fear-dried lips. "PPX-23."

Jaune would have been lying if he said he didn't mind be referred to as a serial code. It was too close to comfort to the books and movies about artificial intelligence. He was more than a numerical designation.

"Yes. But did you know this," he looked down at his hand for a moment and rotated it, before gesturing at himself, "was based on me? My original body. I  _died_  for lack of a better word, and then I was transferred. You gave me a second chance at life."

Hagane shook his head by a few scant millimetres.  _Interesting_. So Joseph hadn't confided to his team just who PPX-23 was, and maybe not its original purpose. If that were the case, and Hagane felt aggrieved at the lack of trust, perhaps he might be amiable to working with them.

"How?" At least Hagane had started to take the initiative.

"It's a long story." And it was certainly one he didn't wish to go into, especially with someone they were holding under duress. "But it's true. I owe you my  _life_." Jaune stressed the word, continuing in his attempt to draw Hagane onto his side. The tactic of good cop/bad cop might have brought him internal strife, but he couldn't deny its effectiveness. Between the ominous form of Pyrrha loitering in the room, and the person kneeling down and conversing with him softly, Hagane's loyalty was only going to be drawn to one of them.

"But, that's where we have a problem," Jaune continued. "Did Joseph tell you why he wanted this body in particular?"

Hagane shook his head again. _That was good._

"You see, you gave me a second chance in life, but there's a problem. Joseph wrote a piece of code into my head. I think my head in particular. It's hard to explain, but it makes me want to kill the person I love." He didn't gesture at Pyrrha for fear of tainting the pure ideal of love, but he sensed her heart rate increase. Up to this point it had been steady, barely above normal despite what they were doing, but at the confirmation of his feelings it spiked.

"Did you know about that?"

Another negative.

"Then perhaps you can help me. I'm sorry about all this, but we didn't know who to turn to. You're a good man. I know that. You have children, a wife. Think about being forced to try and kill them. Imagine it. Imagine how horrific it would be to feel her throat beneath your hands. To feel your fingers dig into her flesh. To, in that moment, want it with all of your heart. Imagine the guilt of having to live after experiencing that, and knowing one day you will kill her." The strain in his voice was very real. No actor was that good. "That's what I have to go through. What I have to live with."

He broke off. The remainder of what he'd wished to say might have been trapped in his throat, but his words had had an effect. Hagane was still scared, but in his eyes was a hint of thoughtfulness, and maybe, just maybe, a trace of empathy.

"What form does it take?" his question was quiet.

"Umm…" It was so hard to describe. "A voice coming from everywhere. No, more a feeling, a need. I actually want to hurt her. I can't stop myself. It just takes control of me."

Hagane leant forwards in his seat, his weight resting on his arms. He peered intently into Jaune's eyes. It was impossible to quantify what the hazel-coloured ones deduced. He was silent for minutes. "Hmm… I wrote a lot of the background code that keeps your body functioning, but I didn't work on the interface with  _you_  so to speak. But, if I had to guess, it sounds like an override of the combat readiness subroutines."

To have an explanation, even a guess, after years of suffering meant more than he could convey. With that diagnosis, however vague, one of his deepest, most irrational fears was laid to rest. It wasn't all just in his imagination. He wasn't trying to kill Pyrrha because after witnessing every single crime she had perpetrated somewhere within him he believed that was what she deserved. His actions were actually beyond his control. He wasn't responsible for them.

"Can you fix me?" Jaune begged. If he thought it would have helped he would have prostrated himself in front of the chair. He was broken, and in front of him was salvation.

But it wasn't to be.

"No."

One word. A single syllable. That was all it took to burst the bubble that, against his better judgement, he'd allowed to inflate. He was doomed to this life until his body rusted and fell apart. His head sank onto his chest.

"I'm sorry. I worked on programming you, but only the basic parts. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Then who would?" Jaune may have accepted his fate, but Pyrrha wouldn't. Not while there was a solitary breath left within her lungs. Her question came out entirely flat. Hagane jumped, almost as if, despite her looming presence, he'd forgotten she was there.

"Umm…" he debated telling her, but the ever so slightly lopsided expression on her face was one which spoke of insanity. Only a much braver man than he would have denied her. "One of my colleagues, Joseph ̶ ̶ "

"We know who he is," she hissed, closing in with a step. Joseph. It always came back to Joseph. Jaune had known it would. It had been inevitable.

"Right." Hagane pressed himself as far away as he could from her. "Well he was the one who made it all possible. Who designed the Interface. He must have been the one who made the alterations."

"Where is he?"

"I can call him." Hagane even reached towards a nearby table. The handset exploded into a shower of white hot sparks. A lazy plume of smoke curled towards the ceiling.

"No phones. Where is he?"

"But ̶ ̶ "

"Now," she growled, the pen jumped from the carpet.

It had gone far enough. Jaune wasn't prepared to watch her torture for information.  _Again_. "Pyrrha," he laid a hand on her arm.

"No," she twisted from his grip, sweeping his legs out from beneath him, and sending him tumbling to the carpet. He tried to rise, but a great weight kept pinned down. "I will ask you once more." The pen jumped towards Hagane. "Where is Joseph?"

Hagane began to tremble. How frightening for him that even her companion feared what she would do. Pyrrha's smile had frozen into a rictus grin. It was too much.

"He's probably still working."

"Where?"

"Our offices here."

"You're lying." Enerdyne didn't have any registered premises in Mistral. They'd checked. The steel nib of the pen pressed into the loose skin under Hagane's eye.

"I'm not. I promise." He pushed his head as far back into the cushions as possible. "I can take you."

Just like that Jaune was able to rise. The pressure pinning him to the floor vanished as the pen clattered to the ground.

With a hand on Hagane's shirt, Pyrrha hauled him out of the chair. Even without her heels she would have had about four inches on him; she manhandled him as if her were a child. "Then let's do that. You have a car here?"

"In the garage."

"The keys?" Hagane gestured at a hook near the door. "Jaune, go and find a suitcase. We're going for a drive."

* * *

 

Jaune couldn't say he was comfortable, but then he guessed that the trunk of the car hadn't exactly been designed with a passenger in mind. With every bump and pothole in the road he was thrown around in the enclosed space. He didn't really fit either. Balanced awkwardly on his side, legs pressed against his chest, he would be glad when they arrived.

Or would he? Arriving at their destination only meant they'd spiralled even further into iniquity. Not content with trespass and an act that could be construed as torture, they'd added kidnapping and grand theft auto to the list. The police would have a field day if they caught them.

All for what? A future. A future started with blood and pain. There hadn't been any yet, but in his gut Jaune knew there would be. Was it worth it? To allow them to live a life, a life more fulfilling than one they currently possessed? In one outburst, when attempting to persuade him to take part in this mad plan, Pyrrha had mentioned children. Could they really raise a little girl or boy knowing they'd done this? He wanted to be a dad. He wanted his sisters to be aunts, and his parents grandparents. It was a wish he'd always had, but was the price too high? He couldn't answer.

The car slowed and the vibrations from the engine ceased. The lid of the trunk opened. After the blackness the fluorescent lighting should have been blinding, but his eyes adjusted instantly. Pyrrha stood in what appeared to be an underground garage, smaller than the one they'd left, her hand gripping Hagane. A metal wire around his neck approximated a collar. The way she'd controlled him while he drove and she hid in the footwell of the back seats.

"Let's go. It appears that our friend here was telling the truth. At least so far. Now we just need to see if he's actually here." She turned her attention to the shaking form next to her. "Is there security? Cameras? Guards?"

"N… no."

"If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not. There hasn't been time. Just the gate we came through."

"Lead the way, and remember." The wire wrapped around Hagane's throat shifted, digging into his skin. Fingers reflexively grasped at it. Pyrrha gave him no sympathy, and merely sent him stumbling towards the stairs.

Jaune had lost all control of the situation. He hadn't lied back in the room. Hagane was a good man. As good as any of them were at any rate. Project Persephone had seen dozens of teenagers, some little more than children, ripped out of their bodies and cast either into new ones, or into the eternal abyss of nothingness.

The culmination of Project Persephone was evil. The souls of everyone working on it had been stained, but it had been started with good intentions. The scientists, researchers, and engineers, like Hagane, would have been attracted to those goals. To create a machine capable of generating an Aura, of hosting a soul? The possibilities were close to limitless. Who could say no to synthetic limbs for those lost in Grimm attacks, replacement organs, greater human-machine interfacing, and possibly… an end to death itself.

They were noble goals. Ones worth making a sacrifice for. No one would have been cackling over their bound test subjects, or overjoyed that they were unwilling children. Hagane was perhaps haunted by what he'd seen, but he'd pressed on, determined to make the cost mean something. Black and white morality was an ideal that didn't exist. All of them were tainted.

"We're on the second floor." The concrete stairwell echoed with Hagane's voice and the sound of their footsteps. As midnight ticked closer, the office appeared to be deserted. Jaune could only hope that Joseph was here. He didn't want to consider what Pyrrha would do if he wasn't.

The lights in the corridor flickered on as they moved into it. With enhanced senses Jaune scanned around. He couldn't see through walls, but he could hear through them. It helped that the office had likely been built by the cheapest contractor. The walls were thin but, even so, no noise originated from beyond.

"Where's his office?" Pyrrha asked. Hagane pointed and Pyrrha pushed him into a trot.

As they passed empty doors, more lights flickered on in response to their presence. There was an odd perversion to being in a building like this at night. It should have been bustling with people, with the noise of keyboards and printers, conversation, alive, not dead.

Hagane stopped at a door off the hall, light seeping out of the crack beneath it. The nameplate was blank. Jaune pressed his ear up against the dull wood. Taps came from beyond, light, but rapid, as if someone were using a tablet. He focussed in. Breaths. He nodded.

"You first," Pyrrha whispered and tightened her grip on the back of Hagane's shirt. Jaune readied himself. It was impossible to tell just what they would encounter. Just how whoever was beyond it would react.

Hagane turned the handle and Pyrrha pushed him through. Someone gasped. Jaune followed. The office beyond wasn't large. A window along one side, a sofa, and a desk with a man sitting behind it. He might have been wearing a suit instead of a lab coat like the last time they had seen him, but Jaune doubted he would ever forget Joseph's face.

"Jaune! Pyr ̶ ̶ "

With a cry, the voice from the side was cut off. Penny slammed into the wall so much force that the whole room shook and dust rained down from the ceiling tiles. Six feet off the floor she remained with nothing holding her up. Nothing apart from Pyrrha's snarl.

Pyrrha saw the  _thing_  that had almost killed her, had killed the person she loved, and so many others. Saw the  _thing_  that she had spent months fruitlessly hunting for in her quest for vengeance. She saw the android that had ripped her life apart, but she didn't see Penny. She didn't see the orange locks of hair, or the shocked green eyes that didn't understand what was happening. She didn't see the pain or the confusion as to why her friend was attacking her.

"Don't hurt my daughter!" Joseph rose, toppling his chair. His command contained power, but it was formed from desperation as well.

"Why?" Penny barely managed to vocalise the question she wanted answered most of all. Beneath the weight of Pyrrha's Semblance, which seemed intent on driving her through the wall, tears began to well.

"Leave her along! She's innocent." Joseph started to come to the defence of his daughter, but all it took was Pyrrha's outstretched hand to force him backwards. His belt digging into his waist.

"She's not! She's a murderer!" The sight of Penny again, after so long, had resurrected the ghosts that had once haunted Pyrrha so thoroughly.

"Listen to me. She knows nothing of Vale. That wasn't her. She's your friend."

"Bullshit!"

_That wasn't her_. The final piece of the puzzle slotted into place. For a long time Jaune had suspected given her behaviour on that fateful day. He'd always wondered how someone as seemingly friendly as Penny could have slaughtered everyone. Now he knew. It hadn't been her. Just like he was, she'd been a prisoner in her own body. She was unable to stop it from doing what its programming instructed. He'd almost killed Pyrrha and that had almost been too much. How on Remnant had Penny coped with the blood of hundreds on her hands?

"Pyrrha." Jaune put himself between Penny and her, grasping her wrists. Her tendons stood out. "Stop."

"She killed you."

"It wasn't her. She was being controlled. Just like me. She couldn't help it."

"No." Breaths surged up and down Pyrrha's throat. She was hyperventilating. Preparing to torture someone had barely caused her heartbeat to rise, but these revelations were too much. Deep down she knew they were true. The knowledge that it hadn't been Penny. That she could never get true revenge. That everything she'd sacrificed her once so promising life for was misguided. Her actions pointless. That she'd murdered all those people, perhaps even more than Penny had, all for nought. But worst of all, unlike Penny, because she'd wanted to.

The many pieces of the once bulging muscle in Jaune's chest shattered anew. The girl in front of him, the girl he cared about so much, was just as broken as his heart. Pulled in a thousand directions Pyrrha was coming apart. He wanted to hold her, to promise it would get better, that he would make it better. But he couldn't. Not here. Not in a room full of people they'd taken prisoner. Witnessed by a beaten man cowering on the floor, a desperate one behind a desk, and teenage girl embedded in a wall.

"Pyrrha, let her down." Jaune got close, until he was all she could see. "She's innocent. Let her go. Let it go." Pyrrha shook her head, her mouth a grimace, clinging on to the delusion that had controlled her for so long. "For me. Please."

Nothing would have persuaded her. Nothing apart from the plea of the person her existence was based around. Penny fell to the sofa, her knees crumpling under her, her chest heaving with confused sobs.

Jaune held Pyrrha to him as he trembled, the pent up aggression and anger of years seeping out. He cradled her to him as Joseph rushed to his daughter. They were all broken. All messed up. Almost beyond repair. Almost, but not quite. Even in this forsaken world there was still hope.

"Please," Joseph said, Penny's hand in his. "Don't hurt my daughter. I'll do anything you want. Just let her leave."

It was the right thing to do. Penny still stared at them aghast, as if she didn't know at all why Pyrrha had attacked her. They should let her go, but it wasn't the smart thing to do. Penny and Hagane were leverage.

"She won't call the police. I'll stay here with you. Just let her go."

To keep them was to ensure that Joseph kept his promise. That he would undo what was in Jaune's head. Make what they'd done here worthwhile. It was the smart course of action, the logical one, but Jaune had had enough of being smart. Of hiding behind the fallacy of logic over all else. Logic knew nothing of humanity.

"She can leave." Pyrrha almost spoke, almost contradicted him. But, for once, she ceded to his wishes.

Joseph breathed a sigh of relief. He might have masterminded Project Persephone, he might have possessed the greatest mind in the world, but Jaune saw him as only the scientist and father he was. Not a warrior. Not a hunter. He couldn't defend his daughter if they wanted to do her harm. He was a subject of their whims.

"Penny, look at me." Joseph turned her head to face his, wiping tears from her cheek with his thumb. "I need you to go with Mr Takeda. I need you to stay with him until I call you. Can you do that for me?"

"No…"

"Penny," his voice became sterner, more authoritative. "I wish for you to go with Mr Takeda. I wish for you to stay with him. I will call you later. Nothing bad is going to happen here. We're just going to talk."

Penny nodded.

"Good." Joseph turned to the man still cowering on the floor. "Hagane, get up. I don't blame you for any of this. You did the only thing you could, but I need you to look after Penny. Use my car. Take her back to your hotel room. Stay there. And do not call the authorities." The last was added with a look at their captors. "Promise me that."

Hagane hardly seemed to believe he would be allowed to simply walk free. He stood, keeping his eyes on the pair in the middle. When neither moved to stop him he spoke. His voice was dry and cracked. "Ok." He accepted the car keys.

"Remember, I'm trusting both of you. No authorities. We'll talk here, and then I will come to you. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding. You've done well. Now just look after my daughter. Penny, you look after him. Now go."

At no point did Hagane show his back to either Jaune or Pyrrha. He kept his eyes on them both at all times, even when he took Penny's small hand in his.

"Everything's going to be okay," Joseph promised his daughter. There was such a weight behind the ultimately futile words. He couldn't promise that. He could only try and appear strong for his daughter. As she disappeared down the corridor he crossed to the window. Joseph did show his back to them. His shoulders hunched in defeat, knuckles pressed against the sill as he leant with his forehead against the glass.

"So why did you do this? Why throw it all way?" The questions were tired ones. As if he was weary of the world.

"We need your help." Things might not have gone exactly how Jaune and Pyrrha had imagined it, but now Joseph had promised to help them. Perhaps there was a glimmer at the end of the tunnel.

Outside a pair of headlights sped down the road.

"And why would I do that?"

The hairs on the back of Jaune's neck stood up. The defeat in the voice had vanished. Instead there was power. Real power. Power that shouldn't have been coming from such an old man. As Joseph turned the room seemed to become smaller. The walls closing in. His sheer presence crushing them all.

In all his years, Jaune had never had an encounter with someone who exuded so much authority. Or danger. Joseph's jaw jutted, the lines around his eyes tight with rage. Instincts honed in combat caused Jaune to centre his gravity, deploy the weapons in his back. He hated using them, they reminded him of just who he was, but right at this moment he was glad of the subtle hums as they hovered behind him. He needed them. Pyrrha had readied herself as well.

"You come here. You threaten one of my employees. You hurt my daughter. And you expect my help." His body actually trembled.

Jaune was barely able to find his voice under the weight of Joseph's anger. "We just needed to talk."

"No. You do not make excuses. I gave you both a chance. I could have had you hunted down for what you did. For all the people you murdered. I do not know how  _you,"_  he addressed Jaune in particular, "came to be here. At one time the mystery would have captivated me. Now I find myself not caring.

"I gave you that chance. I decided not to waste any more lives on trying to bring you to justice. I let you live in your flat. I let you get on with your lives. It was a mistake."

"We haven't been able to get on with our lives! You made him try and kill me every other week!" Pyrrha shouted.

"I don't care. That is more than you deserved. At least you had a life. The hundreds of people you killed don't. You had so much, and you decided to throw it all away."

"You have no right to lecture me. You're the one who tortured kids!"

"I have every right! I did what I must. You are but children who do not understand. If I am really the bad guy, what did you think was going to happen here? He spread his arms in disbelief. "That you would turn up, threaten me, and I would help you? That I would stand here, reveal all my evil plans and the way to stop them? That you force me to cooperate, and then what, the pair of you save the world? You are naïve and foolish. Nothing more.

"You think that this is a game. That you will triumph merely because you believe that you are right. I have heard that rational a hundred thousand times. And a hundred thousand times it has proven false. All people believe that they are right. And so many times, they are anything but."

Poised on the brink of combat Jaune had a hard time following the rant. It didn't make sense.  _A hundred thousand times_? He'd never had the impression that Joseph was unhinged from anything he knew about him, but the reality was different. There was no chance of him helping them now. Still, even though Joseph's words were those of a madman, he didn't look like one, or sound like one. His words had the weight of truth behind them.

"We don't need to fight." Jaune decided on one last gamble. At his side Pyrrha was ready to do exactly that. He didn't want her to kill another man. No matter how much blood stained his hands as well.

"And say we don't. I suppose now you walk away and live happily ever after? You build a house in some tiny village somewhere and manage to forget all those who died. I suppose that would be the perfect ending to this sorry saga. But let me tell you one thing: This isn't a fairy tale.

"Kill her," god commanded Jaune, and he obeyed his god.

Even as his mind screamed in terror, his body acted. The swords hanging behind him shot forwards faster than any of them could react. The first blade clattered off Pyrrha's Aura, the second knocked her off balance, the third sent her tumbling to the floor, the fourth drew blood, the fifth rent bone, so did the sixth, and the seventh, and the eighth. Pyrrha's shattered form barely had a chance to twitch.

As quickly as that Jaune found himself in control of his body. He stood there stunned. He hadn't even had time to believe he'd wanted it. God had commanded him and his body had simply obeyed. He couldn't tear his eyes away. He didn't even know if he wanted to.

Blood stained the carpet, spreading out into a crimson ellipse seeping towards him. He wished his vision couldn't pick out every shard of bone within the numerous wounds, every eviscerated piece of flesh. He wished he couldn't smell the oil on his weapons mixed with her blood, taste it in the very air. And he wished couldn't feel the air leaking from her ruptured lungs.

Just like last time.

_Like last time_.

"Pyyrha!" He fell to his knees beside her, waves of blood rippling outwards, and he thrust the entirety of his Aura towards her. This was what he'd been born to do. What he'd been put on this planet to do. His Semblance quested out, and found…

Nothing.

No answer to the desperate calls from his soul. No resonance that he knew so well. No hook for his abilities to latch onto. It had never been like this. He was always able to sense the other person, identify them. He knew Pyrrha's soul. Where it should be. What it felt like. He knew it intimately in more ways than one. But now, right at this moment, when she needed him most, there was just an empty pit where she'd once resided. She wasn't there anymore. Her empty eyes stared up at him, frozen in a moment of shock and pain.

And he'd been the one who had killed her.

Just like he'd always feared. It was his fault. The guilt pinned him to the floor. If he'd just been stronger, stood up to her, he could have left. And then she would have been safe.

Safe from him. From the soulless perversion of nature. The monster who only deserved to die. If it were possible, he would have wished himself out of existence right at that moment. But it wasn't possible, and he wouldn't escape so easily.

He'd murdered the girl he loved. His agony escaped his body using all the power within in the machination of evil. The air roared out of his lungs as he turned his face to the heavens and shook the windows.

It was a wordless cry, but one that needed no translation. No matter what language the person spoke, whether they were human or animal, or even Grimm. It transcended language. The vocalisation was primal, heard thousands of years ago, and would be heard thousands of years in the future. It tore something within him, something physical, some part not designed to cope with the strain. His very soul was cast into the heavens as he railed against the cruelty of existence.

And as his rage built his eyes settled on the one who had caused it. The one who had built Penny, built him. Who had forced him to kill the person he loved. Jaune surged upwards, ripping a blade from the sheath of Pyrrha's corpse, not even caring that he didn't grasp it by the handle. He leapt over the desk and put his full weight of torment behind the blow.

Joseph caught it in his hand. As simple as that. The sword skittered off the strongest Aura Jaune had ever encountered. Stronger than his by orders of magnitude. His most powerful strike had no effect.

White pinpricks of light turned Joseph's skin translucent. He reached out and touched Jaune's arm. It fell limp to his side, the sword clattering from his fingers. He couldn't move it, sense it. It was as if it belonged to someone else. As if it was no longer capable of holding his soul.

"What is given, can be taken away." The lights flared again. Joseph touched his other arm, and Jaune's soul was rejected from that limb as well. Jaune stood there, impotent, useless. He'd failed in everything in life. The world was better off without him.

Joseph glanced back at Pyrrha's corpse for a moment. "I gave you every chance to avoid this. This wasn't my intention. But I could not allow you to hurt anyone else. I made that mistake before. I've made that mistake too many times.

The pinpricks of white behind his skin turned into candles. "For what it's worth, I wish the pair of you happiness in whatever comes next."

His hand pressed against Jaune's heart and darkness reigned.

 


	16. Chapter 16

With coordination that wouldn't have looked out of place on the battlefield, the lines of police began to force the two groups of protesters apart. Their angry shouts and chants drifted to where Blake was watching the conflict from the balcony outside her room.

She watched as the protesters threw themselves against the wide plastic shields of the police, determined to get past them and reach those who were their antithesis. She watched the crowds surge towards each other, placards and banners wielded like weapons, each crying out their beliefs. She watched as the police lines began to buckle. As fists flew where the line fell apart.

Projectiles arced through the air. Teargas spewed forth. The crowds around the grenades stumbled backwards, hands covering their eyes, their mouths and noses, desperately trying to shield themselves from the burning clouds. Some braver than most, with nothing but shirts covering their faces, threw the canisters back. The crowds rallied.

It didn't last long. More thumps, more pounding boots as reinforcements arrived at a run. Cries of pain mingled with the anger as batons hammered into flesh. They might have been protesting two different ends of the political spectrum, but the police didn't care about their ideologies. Those nearest the police lines went down and, with the adrenaline pumping, the beatings didn't stop when the protesters were on the ground.

In the face of the brutality the will of the protesters fled. It only took one person running for the panic to sweep through the crowds. Banners and placards were discarded, their messages suddenly unimportant and irrelevant. The lucky ones managed to dodge the ever increasing number of police that converged on the scene. The unlucky did not.

Blake didn't avert her eyes as blood began to flow. She'd seen it all before. As protests went it hadn't been a particularly large one, maybe only a few hundred on each side. Her parents had organised ones with thousands of people united in a cause, but even those marches paled against the one Atlas had seen in the wake of the Tintagel Castle bombing. The estimates had put tens if not hundreds of thousands on the streets. There the police had been overwhelmed. The protesters could only wish the same could have been said here.

With the crowds scattered, the police ceased their reprisals. Blake doubted they would ever be reprimanded for the use of excessive force. The law often didn't apply to those who enforced it. They'd been given orders and had carried them out. Police vans came to a halt; handcuffed and bloodied protesters were thrown inside. Faunus in fluorescent jackets arrived pushing carts and brooms. Sweeping up the debris, folding banners and putting them in sacks, mopping the blood, erasing any signs of what had happened here. Twenty minutes later, it was as if there had never been a protest at all. From her bird's eye view, Blake had to admit it had been an efficient operation. The square in front of the palace was entirely deserted, a complete contrast to the scene that had woken her this morning.

The palace guards—the ones who were actually armed and thankfully hadn't gotten involved—opened the great bronzed gates and formed up in ranks on either side. They stood at attention in their ceremonial uniforms under the unforgiving sun; none dared to move a muscle as their superiors walked up and down the lines attempting to find even a single button that wasn't gleaming.

Eventually the officer took their own positions. The camera crews set up the perfect framing, and the military band began to play. The Vacuan national anthem trumpeted out across the empty square and into the city beyond, proud and unyielding. If possible, it made the soldiers stand even straighter.

On the far side of the square flashing lights appeared. One, two pairs of police motorbikes, and then seven identical black SUVs with fluttering white flags on their bonnets. The Vacuan national anthem transformed into the Atlesian one.

The convoy passed the ranks of soldiers, the band, and the television crews, coming to a stop at the red carpet laid out before palace steps. A crowd was already waiting. The royal family, satraps, ambassadors, and even the three members of the Vacuan Council.

The doors of the two SUVs in the front and the four at the back opened all at once. Suited figures emerged. They took positions all around the convoy, their backs to it, eyes scanning for any sign of danger. Blake recognised some of them, one in particular. Erashan stayed close to the only SUV that had remained sealed, but he didn't open it. Instead, he waited. Just like everyone else waited.

Blake had no doubt this part would be cut out of the news reports. The reception would appear seamless. As it was, no powerful person liked to be kept waiting. King Badr emerged from the palace and took centre stage.

Moments later the doors of the SUV were opened. Blake leaned over the railing to get a better view of the figure that emerged from the near side. In many ways Weiss looked the same as the girl who'd shared her room, and in many more she did not.

They'd all been forced to change, but Weiss had changed most of all. She had always been proud, always stood straight. Only those who'd known her had been able to tell how much of it was merely an act. It wasn't any longer. As Weiss emerged from the SUV the most apt description that came to Blake's mind was 'regal'.

Unlike the assorted members of the Vacuan royal family, Weiss wasn't bedecked with jewels and wealth. Instead her light blue dress was almost free of adornment. It was simple, and few would be able to imitate Weiss' style while pulling it off; it was Weiss' innate grace that lent elegance to her unpretentious garb. Nestled in hair so brilliantly white it was almost painful to look at in the sun, a small silver circlet shone. Weiss might not have been a queen, but it was a crown. No one would have mistaken it for anything else.

Weiss smiled radiantly at the reception party, but she waited for Winter to round the SUV before starting forward. King Badr reciprocated. Step for step they closed and they met in the middle. They exchanged a few words and clasped hands. All three of them knew how to make a show for the cameras. Relations between Atlas and Vacuo might have been strained, but no one watching would have known. Weiss and Winter even laughed at a joke.

As the king began to introduce the pair of them to the extended members of his family, Blake just watched. Trying to quantify her thoughts. Despite her parentage, or maybe because of it, Weiss had been her friend. Weiss had managed to look past the bigotry of the Schnee family to see her for her, not just a Faunus. They'd spent quite some time talking about their hoped future when Weiss took control. Fairness. Equality. No more need for protests. For the White Fang. They were going to make the world a better place.

It hadn't happened. Weiss had been in power for two years, and the SDC slaves still toiled in the mines. They were slightly better treated, better paid, but it was a far cry from Weiss' promises. The Weiss she'd known would have kept them. Just like the Weiss she'd studied with wouldn't have ruled with an iron fist. Maybe one covered by a silk glove, but an iron fist all the same.

After learning what Weiss had done in the wake of the war, and how it had ultimately driven Ruby away from safety, Blake had agreed with Yang. Perhaps not quite as vehemently, but she had agreed. She hadn't called Weiss either. Hadn't let her know she still had a friend because, in all honesty, she didn't.

Weiss had betrayed her. Given away her secret. All for petty revenge. At least those had been her thoughts when Ozpin had started chasing her. He'd somehow found out about her past. With the White Fang wiped out, only one person could have told him. That, along with the betrayal of Ruby, had been enough to rekindle her old hatred of the Schnees. By all appearance, Weiss hadn't fallen far from the family tree.

A couple of months ago Blake doubted she could have watched Weiss greet nobles and dignitaries in a fine dress without bile rising to her throat. Now though… she just contemplated. Getting back into touch with Ruby had changed a lot. Ruby had forgiven Weiss. Had talked to her in person. It had been Ruby who told them Weiss hadn't revealed Blake's secret. Adam had still found a way to hurt her.

After that, and after hearing about the state visit of an Atlesian delegation, she'd done a lot of thinking. From what she'd been able to gather, Weiss' rule was popular in Atlas. The lives of normal people had improved. There was stability. Less crime. And all they had to sacrifice for it was the low price of their freedom.

In Vacuo it was different. The protests had been indicative of just how high tensions were running. Some of those wished for closer ties with Atlas, to perhaps even attempt to exterminate the Grimm like in Vale. Others pointed at the chokehold the SDC already had on the world, at the  _accidents_  that so many had suffered. Many felt that to give a little bit more would see the end of Vacuan culture.

They were all concerns that Blake had considered. She had no doubt that Weiss was doing what she thought best. That she was trying to help everyone—at least everyone who didn't oppose her. As the welcoming party moved inside and the poor soldiers were finally allowed to seek shelter from the sun, Blake stayed leant on the railings and thought.

If she wanted to attempt to recapture anything she'd once shared with Weiss, she would have to be the one who made the first move. Weiss was far too proud. She would rather break than bend. But Blake was still unable to decide if she wanted it. If she should make the effort? Ruby had, and surely Weiss had hurt Ruby the most out of them all.

Blake continued to think as the door to her room opened and closed. Just by the fall of her footsteps she knew it was Yang. Blake smiled, she couldn't help herself. The last few weeks or so had been magical. Yang's boisterous demeanour had never failed to raise her mood, but now just being in the same room caused her heart to run wild.

It had made any meeting spent organising their expedition difficult in the extreme. Her mind kept wandering to the girl who now sat so much closer. Blake knew what the symptoms meant. She just couldn't believe she would have ever been in a position to diagnose herself. She was in love. Completely, totally, head over heels in love with the most special person in her life. And it was a million times better than her books had ever said it would be.

Despite how much she wanted to, she didn't turn around. Didn't let Yang know her presence had been detected. As she'd seen her girlfriend's back on the balcony, Yang's footsteps had gone almost silent. She snuck forwards, and even with her heritage Blake could barely hear the rustle of her clothes. Yang had gotten good at this, but not yet good enough. Blake waited until Yang was almost within reach.

"Hi Yang," she said, glad that Yang was unable to see her—as her girlfriend would have so delicately put it— _shit-eating_  grin.

Yang froze for a moment, before her held breath escaped her body in a rush. "Damnit. You're scary. You know that don't you?" Blake shivered as Yang embraced her from behind, fingers finding their way under her blouse. Almost unthinkingly Yang drew patterns into her skin as she nuzzled he neck. "One day I'll manage to sneak up on you."

Blake had to support more and more of her weight on her arms as Yang planted one kiss after another up her neck. "Maybe when you don't walk like a Goliath."

The strength in her legs almost failed her at Yang nipped her earlobe, the sweet pain shooting up her nerves. She'd found out that she enjoyed the slight mix of pain, and Yang was only too happy to oblige. Still continuing to worry the flesh of her ear, Yang growled beneath her teeth. "Are you calling me fat?"

Blake laughed. She couldn't help it. She sort of had, but only playfully. If someone actually compared Yang to a Goliath… it would be best to be in another country. Pulling her earlobe from between Yang's teeth she turned around and found Yang's lips with her own. The weeks spent in pampered luxury had dramatically increased the softness. Hers were no longer a landscape of dry and cracked contours, and neither were Yang's. Now they were like the plushest velvet and she did her best to explore them.

Yang broke the kiss first. "Don't think you get off from calling me fat just because you kissed me."

"I'll just have to keep trying then." Blake leant back in and Yang didn't pull away. She didn't know what anyone watching would have made of two girls making out on a balcony of the palace, and she didn't much care.

All she knew was, at this exact moment, her mind was leading towards a bed, or a couch, or just right here against the stone of the bannister. Anywhere. She could barely think of anything else as Yang's roving hands and tongue almost drove her insane. Yang always knew the exact combination of soft touches, and stinging scratches that would drive her to edge of reason. Blake could only be grateful that Yang was as talented as she was voracious.

Though every sinew was crying out for her to give in to her body's urges, to let Yang have her way with her, while staring out over the city she'd managed to come to a decision. As they both came up for air, she put a few inches of distance between them. Yang's cheeks were flushed and she knew hers would be exactly the same. It was a shame to ruin the moment, but there would be others. Lots and lots of them.

"I take it you saw them arrive?"

There could be no mistake as to who  _they_ were. Alfurat had been talking about the visit for days, and the palace had been cleaned inside and out. Yang's eyes narrowed from their enraptured state, her brow furrowing. Even if Ruby had forgiven Weiss, Blake doubted Yang ever would.

"It was hard to miss. Even if I wanted to."

"I suppose." The arrival ceremony had been a little over the top, and that was discounting the dispersal of the riot. "But you saw her?"

"Yes."

Yang's attitude wasn't making this any easier. In fact it was making her second guess herself. "I… I think I want to talk to her."

"Why?" Yang's word contained an ocean of vehemence.

Blake could only shrug. She didn't really know. Only she'd always had trouble making friends. She was too quiet, too timid, and she didn't like the idea of losing one forever. No matter what they had done. Not while there could be a chance of salvaging it.

"She's here. I can't ignore that."

"I can."

"Yang." Blake mulled over her words. Yang was probably the most stubborn person she'd ever met. It would take a miracle to get her to change her mind. "She was your friend. I know you weren't just faking it. You liked her."

"The key word there is 'was'."

"Ruby's given her another chance. Can't you?"

"No. Weiss had her chance, and she blew it. And over the past two years she's continued to blow it. Without her, I wouldn't have been worrying if Ruby was dead. I wouldn't have been wondering where she was. She would have been with me. Safe. I'm not going to forgive, and I can't just forget. I'll be happy if I never see her again."

There wasn't much Blake could say to that. The detest in Yang's voice was palpable. She hated Weiss. Actually hated her for everything she'd done. Maybe Ruby's opinion would be strong enough to persuade Yang to change, but hers wouldn't be. For the time being, she could only accept that Yang and Weiss' relationship had likely been irreversibly sundered.

Blake turned away slightly, burned by the intensity of Yang's rage. "I still want to see her."

Yang blew out a breath and leaned on the railing of the balcony. The anger drained from her and resignation took its place. "I'm not going to try and stop you. Just… be careful. Remember who she is. What she's done. She's not the person you think she is anymore. She's changed."

"I'll be careful. I've just got to take this opportunity."

"And remember, she's Ozpin ally. She was the one who was propping up his rule in the beginning. Don't mention anything to her."

As much as she didn't like the idea of keeping secrets, it was the only sensible thing to do. Everything Yang had said was true. The fates of Vale and Atlas were intrinsically linked. If Weiss learned of a plot to destabilise Ozpin she would intervene, and that intervention would only take one form. It wouldn't matter who was on the other side.

"I know. I'm sorry." She was. The romance between them had withered and died with her declaration.

"I get why. I understand. I just can't." Yang smiled. It didn't matter that it was fake. It was the intention that counted. "But let's talk about something else. Did you see the message from Velvet?"

"No." In line with Cinder's instruction they had contacted people they thought they could trust. In all honesty, the number hadn't been that high. While on the run they'd lost contact with an awful lot of people. Plus while she remained on the international watch list they had to be certain that person wouldn't turn them in.

"She said she was interested. She wants to set up a call. I thought you'd want to be there as well."

"Yeah. That's good. Better than good." If there really was a dragon on Menagerie, Velvet was one of the few who had a realistic chance of taking it down.

"Yep. I'm starting to think that we might actually have a chance."

"Oh, and Sun's in as well." It had taken her an awful lot of time to work up the courage to enter that number into her scroll. She couldn't just send an email to him. She'd had to talk. It had been hard given their history.

In the wake of the fall of Vale, Sun had wanted to come with her. She was sure he'd been in love with her, or at least he'd had a major crush. He'd wanted to go, even if it made him a criminal, but his family had come first. He'd had to be there to protect them through the wave of violence against the Faunus that had come after the tales from Vale began seeping out. Afterwards he'd had to stay to lift them from poverty.

They'd drifted apart in the many times she and Yang had been forced to flee before eventually falling out of contact entirely. It would have been an understatement to say he'd been surprised to hear her voice. At least he hadn't been angry. He'd understood her decisions, just as she understood his. Fate just hadn't willed them to be together. They might have not talked to each other for years, but when she'd asked for his help, Sun had offered it instantly.

"He said he's going to think about who else might want to join."

"Great."

"Has Cinder said when we're going to leave?"

The preparation for their expedition was moving swiftly. At least as swift as it could when Cinder was still keeping her cards close to her chest. She had yet to reveal just what their goal was on Menagerie? What exactly the dragon was guarding? Blake and Yang had given up trying to guess. They'd only concluded that it must be something staggeringly powerful if it was going to tip the balance of power away from Ozpin.

"No. Just 'soon'."

Never being able to get a straight answer from her was frustrating. She hadn't even told them anything as simple as how they were getting there. Menagerie was on the other side of the planet and yet they were telling everyone to meet them in the Vacuan capital. Even Yang was unable to make her spill the beans.

"Well, I guess we'll be ready soon then. I take it she doesn't want anything from us today."

"Not that I've heard, why?"

"We can't just sit around all day." Other days they'd enjoyed doing just that in the privacy of their rooms, even if much there wasn't much  _sitting_  involved. They were confined to the palace, but it was still a palace, and there was plenty to do. Blake knew just the thing to take their minds off the unpleasantness of the morning and the state visit happening in one of the other wings. "And you still owe me a meal."

"Bullshit. You cheated." It was good natured accusation. They'd never expressly agreed to no Dust in their last sparring session. It had caught Yang off-guard long enough to turn the tide, and she'd sulked about it the rest of the night. Blake was sure the only reason behind the sulking was so they could have make-up sex a few hours later.

"Fair is fair. So do you wanna hit the gym? Double or nothing?"

It only took a heartbeat for Yang to decide. The look in her eyes told Blake she was in for a hard afternoon.

"You're on."

* * *

 

It had been hard. While exercising they often worked as each other's personal trainers, and Yang had been entirely ruthless as she targeted all the groups of muscles Blake often neglected. By the time they'd started sparring she'd almost been too sore to move, but she'd given it her best. Even with Dust it hadn't been enough, and Yang had kicked her ass up one side of the gym and down the other. Still, the apologetic massage had more than made up for it. So had everything that had followed.

After several lazy hours curled up next to Yang her body had recovered. In fact, it felt better than it had that morning. The exercise had helped loosen it up immensely. It was just as well. She'd need all of her skills to make her way to Weiss.

She could have just walked up, announced herself, and likely have been brought to see the Councillor. But at the very least that would have alerted everyone in the palace to her presence, and she was sure Ozpin had ears among the Atlesian delegation. Word would get out, and then it was a toss-up of whether Ozpin or Cinder would kill her first.

No, the normal way was far too risky. Hers was better. Which was why she'd waited for night to fall. She might have hated nights in the desert—they'd only been more tolerable than the day because she'd been able to sleep through the extreme conditions—but in the middle of civilization the crispness of the air made her feel alive in an almost unparalleled way. Though that wasn't counting what had just happened under the stars on the couch she was sitting on at this very moment.

Of course, her reasons for waiting hadn't merely to use the darkness she felt so comfortable in; she'd had to wait until Weiss was likely alone. The Atlesian delegation was staying in their own wing of the palace. If luck went her way, Weiss would currently be in her bed. Not asleep unless she'd changed even more than imaginable, but working. Alone they could talk.

Blake closed her eyes and mentally walked through the layout of the palace. She'd always had a head for information, and with a little effort could make it stick. It only took her one or two visits to remember the directions to a place, and she'd spent time walking every corridor of the palace she was permitted to enter. She knew how to get near the wing where Weiss would be. After that she'd just have to improvise.

As her watch ticked to one in the morning she finally allowed herself to move. Thankfully Yang had fallen asleep while waiting, the TV still flickering in the background. Blake turned it off, and stood over Yang's bed. A smile found her. Yang still slept like a child. Her limbs loose and splayed like a starfish, her hair spread over her pillows. Even asleep she somehow managed to look beautiful. Her Semblance ensured that she didn't really need a quilt but Blake tucked her in anyway. She planted a kiss on Yang's forehead. She loved being able to do that, and she loved Yang. They'd waited so long to admit their feelings for reasons that were inconceivable now that she knew the result.

Yang murmured at touch of her lips, but she didn't wake. After a final look Blake left the room. The gilded halls were empty and, apart from a few solitary lamps still burning, dark. The shadows didn't matter to her. She was in her element.

Just before she got to the wing where Weiss was staying, she turned off the main corridor. If there was one advantage to staying in a palace so large—apart from the luxury of course—it was that the majority of the rooms were empty. It only took her a brief moment to align the pins and turn the lock's cylinder.

She slipped into the darkened room, closing the door behind her. Dust sheets were draped over the furniture. Judging by the smell of neglect, it hadn't been used in quite some time. She wrinkled her nose. The lock on the external door was even easier to pick. Though the balcony was a good deal smaller than the one outside her own—there was barely enough room for a single chair—but it was sufficient.

With a practiced eye she measured the distance to the balcony one over and one up before taking off at a sprint. Just like she'd watched Yang so foolishly do, she threw herself over the railing. But she had an advantage Yang didn't. Her form blurred and split into two. As her Shadow remained stationary she shot upwards. Clearing the railing of her target easily, she carried on running.

From balcony to balcony she jumped, landing on silent feet every time, little more than a wraith moving through the darkness. She loved Yang, but she also loved solitude. Yang could never have followed her along the outside of the building. Not without alerting everyone within a mile. Yang was suited to many things, but stealth was not one of them.

Nearing the rooms she was sure belonged to the Atlesian delegation she slowed, choosing her landing points more carefully and avoiding windows lit from the inside. Weiss had brought her own security despite the insult that offered to her hosts. Blake had seen first-hand just how effective the SDC's elite troops were. If they caught sight of her, they wouldn't stop to ask questions.

Despite their skill, they hadn't been ready for someone like her. She made it to her target almost without incident. Only once had a figure moved onto a balcony with a glowing cigar in their hand. She'd had to alter her course in mid-flight, her fingers scrambling for a secure purchase as she dropped to the balcony below. It had got her heart racing, but she'd been gone before anyone had been able to investigate her less-than-silent landing.

On the balcony outside the largest room in the wing she took a few moments to gather her breath. No matter how fit she was, she'd still just used her Semblance dozens of times in only a few minutes. It would have taken its toll on anyone.

She used her recovery as an opportunity to press her ears up against the glass. It was harder to detect any noise from within thanks to her racing blood, but someone was having a shower. That was good; it meant that Weiss was alone. She might well scare the life out of her when she left the bathroom, but it couldn't really be helped.

Before setting to work with her picks again, Blake carefully scanned the outline of the door for any extra wires. So far no door she'd encountered had been alarmed, but she wouldn't put it past to Weiss to have installed her own security. There didn't appear to be anything, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The lock was much trickier, it took her almost a minute to pick, but eventually she was able to push the door open and enter the darkened room beyond.

The cold metal of a blade touched her throat. Her first instinct was to fight. She didn't have Gambol Shroud, but there was knife in her boot and one up her sleeve. Her fingers twitched towards them.

"Don't." A deep voice resonated from behind her. It was almost as if her attacker knew what she'd been thinking, and it was likely he did. Blake glanced down. She recognised the voice, and she recognised the black sword pressing against her Aura. Her knives suddenly didn't seem that appealing of an option.

She risked a glance at Erashan. He was entirely nude, his body glistening with water. He'd been waiting behind the curtain at the side of the door for her to enter the room. She had no idea how he'd managed to move into position without her hearing him, or how he'd detected her while he was in the shower. The one thing she was certain of was that this was no happy reunion.

"I'm here to see Weiss."

He ignored her, keeping his blade where it was. "Lace your fingers behind your head. Slowly."

"I just want—"

"Now." He increased the pressure on her throat. Blake was reminded of the last time she'd had this particular sword chill her skin. Back at Beacon, when he'd thrashed all of them so thoroughly. The years since had seen her skills improve dramatically, but she still didn't fancy her chances. She did as instructed. "Come away from the door. Kneel." He forced her down in the middle of the carpet.

Blake grimaced. Of course Weiss wouldn't have been in the largest set of rooms. The suite most likely to be targeted by a truly stupid assassin. One as stupid as her. Now her plan of a quiet entry and exit was in tatters. She could only try and talk her way out of it.

"I need to see Weiss."

"Be quiet. You move, you die." She'd never had all that much to do with Erashan, but she'd believed she had at least been on good terms with him. The intervening years must have sullied his memory of her entirely. He was treating her just like any other  _assassin_. Well maybe not. She doubted another assassin would have made it through the door with their carotid artery in one piece. At least she had that going for her.

"Are you armed?"

"A knife in my sleeve." It was at least half true. She didn't want to leave herself entirely defenceless if things went south.

"Toss it in front of you. Slowly." She did. Knelt on the floor and with a sword at her throat any resistance would have been worse than useless. "Good. Now hands back behind your head."

He removed his weapon. Though it had never actually managed to breach her Aura and touch her skin, it had felt that way. Her nerves tingled with its absence. Erashan moved to a nearby desk and threw a pair of handcuffs down in front of her.

"Put them on."

That was too much. "Erashan you know me. I'm not an assassin. These aren't necessary."

"What I know is that you snuck in from the balcony in the dead of night, that you came armed, and that you are a criminal. Put them on. I will not ask again." There was absolutely no give in his expression.

"If I do, will you take me to Weiss?"

"Yes. She will decide you fate."

Blake still didn't like it, but she didn't see that she had much of a choice. Her only other options were to fight or to run. Both would announce her presence here. With resignation she picked up the cold metal bracelets.

"Behind you." Blake shot him a heated look, but acquiesced.

It wasn't the first time she'd been in handcuffs though, and there were tactics she could use. As she ratcheted them closed she tensed all the muscles and tendons in her wrists. There would be no visible gap, but it would give her a few millimetres to play with if the need arose. Unfortunately it seemed Erashan was aware of how to slip out of handcuffs as well. He pressed on both bands cruelly, crushing her muscles until the pain made Blake's eyes water. Running his hands over her body he patted her down.

"Really?" His fingers slipped into her boot and found the handle of her knife. He tossed it next to the other one.

"Sorry…" She shouldn't have lied.

"Anything else?"

"No." She should have guessed he'd find it, but just the hardness of it against the bone of her ankle had been comforting. With a weapon she'd had another option, now that was truly gone.

"Stay." He'd never been much for words, but she needed to get him talking. Remind him that she wasn't just an intruder.

"I saw the news about your wife…" she struggled to recall her name, "Lobelia. Congratulations. About the pregnancy I mean."

Erashan paused halfway through pulling on a pair of briefs. Until he'd had her secured, his nudity hadn't appeared to bother him; his dignity prioritised low on his internal list compared to dealing with an assassin. Blake kept her eyes averted. He wasn't exactly unattractive, but he was decades older than her and, though fit and muscled, his body couldn't compare in the slightest to some she'd seen. Plus her libido was the last thing on her mind at the moment.

He stared at her as if attempting to deduce an ulterior motive. There was one, and they both knew it, but eventually he spoke. "Thank you."

The reply had been stilted, but at least it was a start. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Again he stared at her before answering. "No. We decided not to. Lobelia says she can feel it is a girl though."

"That's great." In all honesty Blake didn't know if Erashan would make a good father. He seemed to care for both Weiss and Winter, but his gruff exterior didn't exactly speak of warmth. She had to wonder what he'd be like after being woken multiple times a night by a crying baby for a month. Then again, she doubted he got much more sleep now. "Have you decided on a name?"

"No." Now dressed and dry, he buckled on the curved sheath that contained his pair of swords. "Up."

He checked her cuffs were secure once more, before taking her by the upper arm and steering her towards the door.

"Can we keep this quiet? Please."

"If that is what Lady Schnee desires. Now keep silent."

The corridor outside was still lit. Erashan marched her down it, never releasing his grip on her arm. They didn't have far to go. A bodyguard standing outside a door told her she'd only been off by a couple of rooms. The soldier was well-trained. Though the sight of his superior escorting a handcuffed prisoner surely piqued his curiosity, he didn't ask questions. Erashan knocked on the door.

"Enter." Even after so long, Blake recognised Weiss' voice.

Erashan pushed her into the room. Sitting at a desk, Weiss' back was to the pair of them.

"Yes?" she asked without ceasing to tap at the keyboard on her scroll.

"We have a guest."

"Really? Who?" Weiss turned around. She'd always been good at hiding her emotions, but her mouth fell open at seeing who was waiting for her.

"Hi." Blake did the best impression of wave she could with her hands bound.

Weiss made a visible effort to close her mouth and rose from her seat. Blake got her first good look at her old friend. A real look, one from up close and not through a camera. Weiss  _had_ changed. She exuded a presence. She exuded power. She was a person who controlled a country, and she knew it.

She might have changed, but Blake still saw part of her old friend in her. Her eyes had lit up when she'd first seen who her guest was, but then she remembered just who hadn't called her for the last two years. A neutral mask descended onto her face. Her head gave the subtlest of jerks. Blake found herself once more forced to her knees with Erashan's blade pressed into the side of her neck. It was in that moment Blake began to believe she might have made a grave error.

"What are you doing here?" Weiss' tone was entirely flat.

"I caught her sneaking into my room. She was armed," Erashan spoke before she was able to and, though his report was technically true, it wasn't the whole truth.

"No, I—" The pressure of Erashan's blade against her neck increased. "I mean, yes. But it's not like that. I just wanted to see you again."

"Really? I have a phone. It wouldn't have been difficult to get into contact with me."

There was just the slightest hint of pain contained within the deadly neutrality of her voice. Blake looked away. She had hurt Weiss by not even calling her. It had just felt like the easier option.

"I'm sorry. I should have. But I thought that you'd told Ozpin about me." Now that she knew the truth it didn't seem like much of an excuse, but it was what she had.

Silence hung in the air a moment before Weiss finally spoke. Emotion found its way into her voice. Frustration and hurt. "You thought that as well?" Blake flinched. She'd thought Weiss had betrayed her, but in truth she'd betrayed their friendship by not trusting her. "It was Adam, he kept a journal. Not me. I never would have."

"I know. I know." She forced herself to meet Weiss' eyes. "Ruby told me. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." If Weiss had a single weakness, it was the person that she still loved. The name sent an almost invisible shudder through her body.

"Ruby?"

"Yeah. She got back into touch a little while ago. She told me about Adam, and about how she visited you. After that… and after I saw you here, I just wanted to talk. To apologise." Weiss had done some horrific things. She had stained her soul. But if there anyone who could relate to having a blackened soul, it was Blake. Her previous crimes still haunted her. With Yang's help she had a chance to make things right by continuing to be a good, selfless person. Weiss deserved that chance as well.

The sincerity in her words was entirely unfeigned, and Weiss believed her. "Release her."

"She snuck into the palace, armed. She's dangerous." Erashan didn't.

As quickly as that, the  _Ice Queen_  returned. It was a terrifying transformation. "Release her." They were the same words, but the way they were said couldn't have been more different: the first had been a request; the second was an absolute command that left no room for interpretation.

Erashan did so, but it wasn't Blake's imagination that he was rougher than he could have been as he pulled her to her feet. With the bracelets off she rubbed the skin of her wrists. There would be a bruise there in the morning. She smiled her thanks.

"You may leave. Arrange for some refreshments." Weiss stared at her employee, daring him to protest.

He didn't. Instead he gave a shallow bow. "As your command."

As the door closed, Weiss' shoulders drooped slightly as she released a captured breath. Weiss looked resplendent, every inch a queen or CEO, but she looked tired. So tired. Just the effort of standing up to Erashan seemed to have drained her. Blake couldn't imagine what it was like. To have the weight of an entire country on your shoulders. It would have crushed her. Weiss somehow managed to bear it, but it wasn't easy.

"Are you ok?" It perhaps wasn't how Blake should have started the conversation, not after over two years. She should apologised, but she could later. At this moment she only wanted to know about her friend's health. And she was her friend. Now in her presence, she just couldn't think of her as just the Ice Queen.

"Of course I am." The denial was swift. One of a person who knew they couldn't afford to show even the slightest hint of weakness. Weiss had had to live like that. All without anyone to lean on. How would things have been different if they'd just stayed in contact?

"Weiss, it's me. You don't need to lie."

"I'm fine." Blake bit her tongue. This obviously wasn't going to be something that Weiss admitted straight off. "Take a seat." Weiss led the way to the leather sofas arranged around a glass table.

Blake waited for her to choose before sitting next to her. Leaving any visible representation of how far they'd drifted apart would have been a bad idea. Blake sat only a few inches from Weiss, close enough that she could even hear her heart beating. The pulse was a little fast, whether that was good or bad she didn't know.

Their refreshments arrived, Erashan playing the role of a less-than-willing servant. With her eyes Weiss directed him outside the door again. Blake could only be glad that it had been him, and not a member of the palace staff. A late-night visitor to Lady Schnee would only have incited gossip.

"Tea?" Weiss offered.

"Please." At least Weiss didn't feel menial tasks were below her. At least in that she'd remained grounded.

As they both sipped their conversation died. It was hard. Much harder than it should have been. Blake had never been much of talker, and her social skills hadn't benefited from years spent mainly with one person. If only Yang were here; she would know exactly what to say to break the ice. Weiss at least tried.

"You look good." It was said with a perfect smile. A fake one, but Weiss was making the effort to appear friendly.

"Thanks."

"You're in love."

Blake choked on her tea, spluttering a reflexive denial as the statement made with absolute certainty.

"I can see it. You're glowing."

Was it that obvious? She'd been walking on a cloud for weeks, but she hadn't thought anyone would be able to know with a glance. "Umm… yeah. I guess I am."

"Who is it?" Weiss tried to keep the question innocent, but it was easy to tell just why she was asking, and just who she thought it might be.

"Yang."

"I see. So you two did stay together. That's good. Is she… with you?"

Blake pursed her lips. There really wasn't a good way to say this. She could have lied. It would have been easier, but it would have only been delaying the inevitable. One day Weiss would find out. Instead she decided to be blunt. To get it over with like waxing.

"She didn't want to see you."

"Oh…" Weiss stared into her cup. "I see. Well… tell her… I hope she's well." The Ice Queen's nostrils definitely wouldn't flare, nor would she squint in an effort not to give into tears. Blake somehow doubted that anyone thought the  _Ice Queen_  could actually cry. But Weiss was a person, and being rejected so thoroughly hurt.

Blake scooted closer and put her arm around Weiss. At first Weiss pulled away, as if startled by the show of comfort, but when Blake didn't let go, she accepted it. Blake tried not to let her dismay show one her face. Weiss was as thin as ever. Perhaps more so. At Beacon she hadn't eaten when stressed, and now, with everything vying for her attention continually, she doubted that Weiss prioritised her health.

"She'll come around. It'll just take time." Yang would be forced to. From their talks, Blake had no impression that Ruby had stopped loving Weiss. The reverse was equally true. One day Yang would have to forgive and forget.

The mention of Yang might have caused the waterworks to well, but Blake could bet it was something else that had broken the façade of strength Weiss usually bore. "You miss Ruby don't you?"

Weiss could only wordlessly nod, and Blake cradled her. It was unfair that the world had driven two people so perfectly suited to each other apart. If not for Cinder and Ozpin, they would have been in their third year at Beacon, happy and likely planning a future together. Not broken and alone. The world was cruel and unfair, and nothing would ever change that.

"She's fine as well," Blake added.

"I know." Despite the near-tears on her cheeks, Weiss managed to smile. "She called me a few days ago. Did you know she's an archaeologist now?"

Blake did, but she shook her head. She sensed that Weiss just wanted to talk about Ruby. To imagine what her life would have been like if they were together. It was tragic really. With every story, it was clear just how proud Weiss was of her, and just how much she missed her.

But it also became clear that Ruby hadn't told Weiss just why she was searching forgotten ruins. Ruby might love her, but she didn't trust her, and she hadn't been able to stay with her. Not while Weiss was the Ice Queen.

Blake mulled over her next question carefully, aware that it might be stepping past the line. "Weiss, are you happy?"

Weiss tensed. It had struck a chord, but the answer wasn't one that Blake had been expecting. "Does it matter?"

"Of course it does."

"Does it? Whether I am happy or not, the world will keep on spinning. Keep on turning. And I will have to keep on making decisions. They won't wait. I learned that the hard way."

"Take a break."

Weiss laughed. It wasn't a happy one. It was derisive. "And who will step into my shoes? Winter? She's already snowed under. It wouldn't be fair to pile this on top of her. Don't get me wrong; sometimes I would love to just step away. To let someone else deal with it. But then I'm reminded of just what happened before. I can't be bribed. I can't be threatened. And I'm not weak. I'll make the right decisions."

There it was. The crux that had driven almost everyone away from her. The right decisions, but who decides what is  _right_? Weiss' definition didn't tally with Blake's, or with Ruby's. Weiss was torn in two. No doubt half of her wanted to do whatever it took to win Ruby back, but the other half was beholden to the state of Atlas. The two facets of herself simply couldn't exist together. One day Weiss would have to choose. Blake could only hope that she picked  _right_.

Another heavy silence fell, and Blake helped herself to a light snack. It was well past midnight, but eating at least provided her with an excuse as she thought about what to say next. Weiss found something first.

"How did you sneak into the palace anyway?"

Blake swallowed. "I didn't sneak." She was good, but she didn't know if she was that good. "I'm staying here."

"Really? Why?"

This was a story she'd prepared beforehand. "We were on a hunt, and came across some people getting attacked. We jumped in. It turned out it was a hunting party that contained a couple of royals. They invited us back here to show their gratitude. I think we've outstayed our welcome though." The fiction just had enough truth that it could almost be real.

"Is that what you've been doing? Hunting in Vacuo?"

"Yeah. Mainly up by Airtafae." Blake relayed a couple of stories. Hunts that she was particularly proud of. Her first payday, when they'd saved a convoy. Weiss was a perfect audience, asking all the right questions. It was obvious how much she missed easy conversation with friends. Blake kept talking, attempting to sate her desire, but eventually her stories dried up. One hunt in a desert was much like all the others.

They were quiet for a few more minutes. "I'm sorry," Weiss apologised. "I won't be able to change Ozpin's mind. Not when it comes to you."

"I know." She expected it, but at least Weiss had been willing to try.

"I have a lot of influence, but not for that. I doubt even Atlas would be safe for you. Not if he knew where you were."

"Yeah." She'd experienced the depth of his malice in Airtafae. Unless he was pulled down, it was likely she would be running all her life. "But thanks." She caught Weiss yawning out of the corner of her eye. "You should get some sleep. You're tired."

For a moment Blake thought she was going to lie to her, but then she nodded, unable to stop another yawn escaping. She'd likely been up at the crack of dawn this morning, or before it.

"I'll get out your hair." Blake climbed to her feet. "I'm sorry, about everything. But I've enjoyed catching up."

"Me too. Are you going to be around?" Even now Blake could sense Weiss' emotional walls being rebuilt.

"Probably for a few more days. We might have to leave at short notice, but I'll keep in contact."

"I'd like that."

Going against all protocol Blake hugged the ruler of Atlas. Weiss was just so small. She hadn't grown at all since Beacon. Weiss hugged her back.

"Stay safe." Blake didn't quite know how Cinder's plan would affect Weiss, but it would surely be detrimental to her.

"You too. If you ever need anything…"

"I know."

"Right. I'll see you then."

"You too."

"I'll have Erashan bring you out." Weiss leant in and whispered, a rare grin on her face. "He's no doubt had his ear to the door waiting for you to try and murder me. Watch this." She raised her voice. "Erashan, come in."

A heartbeat later the door opened. Blake had to hide her smile behind her hands, so did Weiss. The laughter in her eyes suited her as it always had.

"Can you please escort Blake to her room?"

Erashan stared at her, then turned his blue-grey eyes on Blake. "You're letting her go?"

"She was never a prisoner." Weiss took a step forward, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Need I remind you that she is a criminal? That she snuck into the palace?"

"You need not. Escort her to her room. That is my will."

"Fine." Weiss' eyebrow twitched up at his sudden change in tone. "But first, Blake, may I ask you a question?"

"Umm… sure." She had no clue just what he wanted to know.

Erashan closed the door, the key scraping in the lock. He turned back. When he spoke, his voice was entirely flat and frozen.

"Were you there on the day the White Fang murdered my father?"

 


	17. Chapter 17

Weiss couldn't help but glance at Blake. Erashan's question had robbed the colour from her face. Her skin was entirely pasty. Her features screwed up in a pained grimace. She looked ill. Ill and vulnerable. Weiss stepped in front of her.

There were two types of people when posturing for a fight. The first type came with raised voices, flung insults, and red cheeks. Two people squaring up and butting chests. Those people were all bluster. They didn't actually want to fight. To actually hurt someone else. They were just making a scene. Generally, if you saw two people like that, you could walk away safe in the knowledge that fists wouldn't fly.

Then there was the second type of person. The person, who didn't shout, didn't rage. The one who remained quiet and still. The one whose face became pale. Who didn't allow their decision making to become needlessly compromised. In the event that they fought, blood would fly. They were infinitely more dangerous, and watched forever vigilantly by bar staff around the world.

Erashan was one of the second. His question had not been delivered with a shout. It hadn't even been said with any emotion. It had been cold and cool. Just like he was. And as he stared at Blake, Weiss knew he was calculating distances and choosing the optimal method of attack.

She wouldn't allow it. Not when she'd only just reconnected with Blake again. It had meant the world to know that she wasn't so alone. That Blake had sought her out with an apology. The gulf left by Ruby's departure had been filled ever so slightly.

Normally it would only have taken an express order to bend Erashan to her will. He was loyal, and obeyed her completely. Today though, she knew a command wouldn't be sufficient. Not for something as large as this. Just the fact he'd locked the door showed he intended to see this to completion. Still, she'd known him all her life. He'd been her steadfast left hand over the past few years. He would listen to her.

"Erashan." She kept her voice soft, comforting. "We can talk through this."

"We can't." He stared at Blake. The emotion in his gaze could only be described as utter loathing. The way he'd been treating her suddenly made sense. It wasn't because she might have been an assassin. It was because she'd been part of the organisation that had murdered his father. It had been a major oversight on Weiss' part not to connect the dots sooner. To her, Blake was just Blake. Not an ex-terrorist.

"We can. Just let Blake leave and the two of us will discuss this."

"No. She stays."

Weiss bit back her shock. That was the first time she could recall that Erashan had outright denied her. Sometimes he argued, but always for her safety, or on what was the most prudent source of action was. Never did he outright say no. In all honesty, his expression scared her. She glanced at Myrtenaster still in its travel case before reprimanding herself. There would be no need to fight him.

"Okay. She stays," Weiss conceded, giving a little bit of ground to him to improve her own position. "But if she stays, we'll need to talk about it."

"I only want to know one thing: did she murder my father?"

"She didn't." Weiss was confident about that. After the initial reveal about Blake's past, she'd harboured the same reservations. Wondering just what Blake might have done? What crimes she might have committed? Whether she should turn her in?

At the time it had seemed a justified concern, but after learning all the sordid details about Blake's relationship with Adam—Ozpin had copied Adam's journal to her in its entirety. She'd read it, despite how many parts had made her physically sick—Weiss knew that Blake couldn't be blamed for the White Fang's actions. She'd been as much a victim as anyone else.

"Let her deny it then. Go on Blake. Lie," Erashan said.

"She wouldn't be lying."

"Yes, she would. She was there when they abducted my father. When they tortured him. And then when they killed him."

Weiss swallowed. The previous Lord Wache had been one of the first casualties of the newly formed White Fang, and definitely the most high profile. As a board member of the SDC, he was the physical manifestation of the oppression of the Faunus. The White Fang had visited  _justice_  upon him.

She'd purposely avoided the videos that had been put on the web; she'd heard enough about them to ensure that she never wished to watch them. Her father had made her anyway. To toughen her up. To make her see what would happen to her if she was ever captured. Only he promised it would be so much worse for her. He wanted to make her hate. It had worked. She'd had graphic nightmares for months. In the long moments after waking, she'd come to despise those who had carried out the act.

"I know you've watched them," he continued, his voice entirely emotionless. He might as well have been discussing the weather instead of his father's murder. "Didn't you ever wonder why one of them was so much smaller than the others? They couldn't have been more than a teenager, a female. The balaclava didn't hide the ears upon her head."

She thoroughly wished she couldn't, but her mind was able to recall the videos in perfect clarity. The gushing blood. The hideous screams. And the terrorists who had done it. Including the one who had been smaller. One standing out all the more in the room full of muscle-bound males. She wished she didn't, but deep down she knew. Blake had only bowed her head, refusing to look at either of them.

Erashan saw when she came to her own conclusions. "So tell me Blake. Was it you? Did you torture my father?"

Blake didn't answer. She couldn't. She'd hunched in on herself, attempting to suppress the memories that were being resurrected. She might not have spoken, but her body language was evidence enough for both of them. Weiss had no doubt that it had been Blake, but it hadn't been a willing Blake. That much had been obvious. Whereas everyone else in the videos had been gleeful, the smaller figure had been hesitant. It had taken a firm hand around her wrist for her to make some of the cuts in the bound man.

While Weiss could no longer argue that it hadn't been Blake, she could protest at the severity of the punishment that Erashan wished to mete. The look in his eyes told her only one form of  _justice_  would satisfy him.

"Erashan, you don't want this."

"Do you remember what you told me close to three years ago now? That we were going to wipe the White Fang out, root and branch? Under your orders we did just that. Well, there is the final leaf." He pointed a single finger at Blake.

Weiss did remember that. She'd been echoing the words her father had said to her only a few hours before. After Vale, and in her pain, she'd believed it was the only course of action. She still believed it. What she'd overseen had not been pleasant, but it had been necessary. A zealous organisation like the White Fang would never have peacefully disarmed, never surrendered. Ozpin had seen that. They had simply been wiped out.

Had been. Despite Ozpin's and Erashan's insistence, Blake wasn't one of them anymore. She no longer violently fought for Faunus rights, or killed in the name of righteousness. She'd changed, atoned, and deserved a second chance.

"She's not. The White Fang are gone. We saw to that."

"Perhaps, but honour demands only one solution."

_Honour_. How she hated that concept. Sure, it was useful to exploit, but so often it overrode simple common sense. And woe betide anyone who besmirched their precious honour. It had no place in the modern world and yet, like many of the backward traditions, the nobles clung to it. Honour gave them a pretty name to refer to their much baser intentions.

"It's not for honour that you want to do this, it's for vengeance. I won't allow it."

Erashan barked out a laugh. "You have no right to question me here. You, who tore apart a country to avenge your own father's death. In this, as in all things, I follow where you lead."

"That was different." The cry escaped her before she had a chance to think it through. That had been different. The acts that had been carried out hadn't been ordered for vengeance. Atlas had stood on the brink of civil war. Tens of thousands would have died. She'd had to act to stop it.

"I've never known you to lie to yourself before, or to hide from reality. I'm sure you've come up with a dozen different justifications, but it doesn't change the fact that almost everyone who had a hand in your father's death died."

She wasn't lying to herself. There hadn't been another option. Another way to stop the coming war. It hadn't been because she was hurting, and wanted someone to pay. Erashan didn't know what he was talking about.

_But Ruby did_. The small voice that had been so active since Ruby's visit spoke from the corner of her mind. Weiss hated it. It forced her to question everything she'd done. Her actions had been  _justified,_ and they had been enough to drive Ruby away. Multiple times. Instead of confronting her own doubts, she went on the attack.

"Blake was just a child. She didn't want to be there. You must have seen that. She's innocent."

" _Innocent_. So were those children who died in the airstrikes. Collateral. Unavoidable maybe, but certainly innocents. We don't hide from that."

As succinctly as that, he'd turned it back on her. Innocents always died in war. It was one of the few constants in the world. She'd just never thought she'd be the one responsible for them. She'd dreaded every new autopsy appearing on her desk, but she'd forced herself to read them anyway. A self-flagellation for her blackened soul.

Either she could accept that Erashan was right, or that she'd been wrong. She didn't want to face that possibility. The chance that all her actions since her father's death had been based on such a morally questionable foundation.

It had always been her belief that what she'd been doing was right. That she'd been making people's lives better. No matter what others said. She wasn't so sure anymore. First Ruby, now Erashan. Who else harboured their doubts about her? And should she harbour those same ones? Had she become everything she'd worked so hard to fight against? Was that why Yang hated her still?

Her world view that had cracked at the Schnee Ball broke further. In those shards of reflected glass she managed to picture just how others would have seen her. The Ice Queen. Maybe a good ruler, but a cold vindictive one as well.

Her subjects wouldn't doubt for a moment that she'd hand over one of her friends to be executed if the crime fit the bill. This crime surely did. Blake was a terrorist. But even so, even with the self-realisation, she couldn't.

"I'm not going to let you hurt her."

"You deny me this?"

"I absolutely deny it. She's my friend."

"And he was my father."

"I don't care." She did, but she didn't. Not when it was Blake.

"Weiss," Blake spoke for the first time. She laid her hand gently on Weiss' shoulder and came abreast of her. "It's ok." She turned to Erashan. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to admit it."

Blake nodded and made to speak, but Weiss interrupted her. "No."

Blake turned back to her. "It's ok. I need to do this." She took a deep breath and looked Erashan right in the eyes. "You want to hear my confession? You have it. You're right. I killed your father."

It was somehow a million times worse hearing it from Blake's lips. The anguish and serenity in her tone. Blake accepted what she'd done and, in that moment, Weiss knew she would accept the punishment as well. Whatever it may be.

Despite all of his actions leading up to this moment, Erashan barely reacted. He just stared as Blake continued, a vein pulsing at his temple.

"I cut his throat while he was tied to a chair. I tortured him. I gave him the most horrific death imaginable. And I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I am, truly. But I know it doesn't excuse it. Doesn't make up for it. I could tell you that I was forced. That Adam made me. Or I could say that I'd just lost my own parents. I could offer any number of excuses, but I'm not going to. Ultimately they would be worthless. The truth is simple. I killed your father. I murdered him. And nothing will ever change that."

The pain in her voice was palpable. She was baring her soul to them. Part that she had buried deep within her so she hadn't had to think about it. Suffer from it. Now she was. Erashan might have lost his father, but the act had hurt Blake as well.

Weiss couldn't imagine what it must have been like. To be forced into torturing someone by the person you thought you loved. What a gross perversion of passion.

"You want me to forgive you?" Erashan ground his teeth together. Honour and empathy battling within.

"No." Blake's voice cracked. What good was his forgiveness when she was clearly unable to forgive herself? "I don't deserve it. I just… wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't realise who you were when we first met, and after… I was too much of coward. Too afraid. I'm not going to run anymore." She took a couple of steps forwards, tilting her head to the side and baring her pale neck. "Whatever you want, I'll accept."

"Blake no!" Weiss dragged her back. She'd always sensed that Blake had a martyrdom complex, but she'd never known it was this bad. She wasn't going to watch her friend get her throat slit just to satisfy some twisted definition of justice. "I'm not going to let that happen."

"It's not your choice to make." Blake's voice was quiet, tranquil. Almost as if she'd finally made her peace.

"It is. While you were in the White Fang you hurt me. I've forgiven you. Recognised that you've changed. Now Erashan will just have to do the same."

"Will I?" Erashan demanded.

"Yes. You will."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you will have shown me the true extent of your  _honour_." Weiss spat the word. "Your father was murdered, yes. We punished those who carried out the act. I refuse to believe that you think a teenage girl culpable. You're better than that. I know it. You swore an oath to me. An oath to protect those that I protect. And Blake is my friend."

He still wasn't convinced. Still listening to the foolish ghosts of his ancestors. Those who had invented the concept of honour, and those who had died because of it.

"Think of all you'll have to lose. Your lands. Your title. Where would your son or daughter grow up? And what would Lobelia say? Would she praise you for managing to avenge your father by murdering a girl who was a teenager at the time?"

"You'd bring them into this?" He seemed angrier at that than anything so far.

"Why would I not? Your actions here will affect them. I like Lobelia. I know her. And I can't believe she would want you to be a party to this. Blake has apologised. She's explained herself. It's not much, but it was sincere. Please accept it. For them. For me."

Erashan clenched his fists, his fingernails digging into the skin of his palms. He was at war with himself, and the personal appeal didn't help either. He'd always cared for her. Treated her like the daughter he didn't believe he and his wife were capable of having. Now, with her being the head of the house he was sworn to, his loyalty to her had only increased. And now she was putting it to the test. She'd never had cause to doubt him before, and didn't want to think she had now.

Eventually, after an age, Erashan nodded, his jaw still clenched.

"Thank you." It was only through great practice that she didn't let any of her relief show on her face. If the situation had deteriorated, it would have gotten messy. As it was, she'd managed to win Erashan around. She would have said more, but he stalked from the room without another word. Normally permission was required to leave her presence, but she let him have that small victory.

Instead she rounded on Blake. She hadn't moved. She was just stood staring dumbly at the door Erashan had slammed in his wake. Blake had offered herself up like a sacrificial lamb. All for what? To make things right by dying, or some other ridiculous notion? Weiss grabbed her arm and gave her a rough shake. "What in the world were you thinking!"

Blake blinked a few times in confusion before her mind seemed able to register Weiss' glowering face. She pulled out of Weiss' grip and turned away. "I knew he wasn't going to do it."

"How? How could you possibly know that!" Even she hadn't been certain that Erashan wouldn't cut her down.

"I just did." She said slowly, looking anywhere but Weiss. "He wouldn't with you here. As much as he might have wanted to. His loyalty to you was stronger." She shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Otherwise he wouldn't even have brought me to you. He would have just killed me in his room and you would never have even known I was here."

She was lying. Blake usually was pragmatic, but Weiss couldn't believe that Blake had put that much faith in Erashan. There had to have been more to it. The look of calm on her face was nothing more than a mask.

Weiss had to know one thing. "Were you telling the truth?"

For a moment the mask cracked and Weiss saw a flash of anger in Blake's amber eyes. "Of course I was!" The anger was gone in an instant, only to be replaced by sorrow. "I wish I wasn't. What I did that day changed my life… It's haunted me for years. It still haunts me. I still dream about it. Do you know what it's like to torture a bound man?"

Weiss swallowed. She did. Technically. It hadn't been her hand on the tools, but it had been done with her express order. Blake said the act had haunted her. It only showed how different they were. Nightmares would have been the normal reaction to have to witnessing such a scene. She hadn't had any. At least not about that. If the information they'd gleaned hadn't been so useless she would have viewed the act as a sad necessity.

Weiss held up her hands in a placating manner. "Sorry. It's just… you scared me. It was a stupid thing to do."

"Perhaps. But it felt right."

"How was that right? What would have happened if he'd killed you before we had a chance to react? How would I have told Yang?"

The pain of the knowledge of Yang's rejection was still acute. She'd known since the phone call, but to have it confirmed again, to know that Yang was in the same building and didn't even want to look at her. That hurt. But on top of that having the first words said in years be about her girlfriend's death? She didn't even want to think about that conversation.

At Yang's name, Blake's face fell. What little colour that had come back to her skin disappeared as her eyes filled with something akin to shame. "Don't tell her." Blake didn't seem to realise how irrelevant the request was, but the fact she'd felt the need to make it was telling.

"Why?"

Blake blew out a breath and sat down heavily. "She's got it into her head that I constantly put myself in danger. That I want to get hurt."

"Don't you?" Weiss might not have been aware of what events over the past two years had resulted in Yang voicing concern, but she'd noticed it even back at Beacon. Blake seemed to value everyone else's wellbeing over her own. Normally it would be an admirable trait. In a huntress it was just dangerous.

Blake groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Not you too. Why does everything think that?"

Weiss resisted the urge to say 'because you do'. Instead she took a seat next to her. "Blake… you just offered to let someone kill you."

"I told you. He wasn't going to do it." She sounded even less convincing than before.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But there was no way that you could know for certain."

"First Yang, now you… I don't have a death wish."

"But you do want to make amends?" It was a desire that Weiss could relate to. More and more since Ruby's departure she'd looked at some of her decisions and seen the possibility that a different one could have been made.

"Well… yes. I can't ever undo what I did, but I can make it right. Have been making it right."

"Yes, you have. Would dying here have made it right?"

"I told you I wasn't planning on dying."

"I know, I know. But from my perspective that was what it looked like." She swallowed, unsure of pushing Blake too far. "I'm sure Yang would think the same."

"She doesn't know what it feels like. The guilt." Weiss kept her face passive. Whether intentional or not, Blake obviously thought that she would know what it felt like. Weiss hoped that Blake had only guessed. She didn't like the idea that her internal conflict had begun to show in her words. "It just gnaws away at you. Constantly. I try. I really do. Over the past two years I've helped people. I've gone beyond what we were paid to do to help people. But that's not going to bring anyone back. It's not going to undo everything I've done. Nothing ever will. So I cope. I live with the nightmares and the memories as best I can. And little by little I try to balance the scales. But I'm not going to die to do it."

It was possible that Blake thought she was telling the truth, but it was more likely she was just in denial. Guilt was a cruel beast. It never tired, and it never stopped. The way to slay it was unique to everyone, and Blake would have to find her own. In the constant struggle it appeared to her that Blake had decided on only the most extreme.

"Do you think the scales are balanced?"

"No." Blake was certain about that.

"Would Erashan have balanced the scales?"

"No," she snapped, glaring at Weiss.

"Can they ever be?"

"N—" Blake bit off the denial and looked away. She didn't want Weiss to see just how lost she really was. That she truly believed redemption was beyond her.

Weiss let the silence hang between them for a moment. "You're wrong. You were in the White Fang. You had a vendetta against my family. I used to live in fear of you. But you're not the same person any longer. You've changed. You don't need to balance the scales because that Blake is dead. And I've forgiven you. I consider the scales balanced."

It wasn't much, but it was the most she could offer. She had more cause than most to demand recompense and yet, despite everything Blake still blamed herself for, she didn't consider that any was needed. Regardless of her past, Blake was a good person now.

Blake was silent for several long minutes, mulling over what had been said. Weiss let her contemplate. Being able to think silently was an enviable trait. Far too many people seemed entirely unable to disconnect their brain from their mouth. Blake had always been someone who didn't say three words when one would do, and in this moment she needed time.

Eventually Blake's pursed lips turned upwards. It wasn't a broad smile, the topics they'd discussed were too serious for that, it was barely a subtle curl, but Weiss recognised it for what it was.

She had helped. That knowledge spread from her stomach in a cloud of warmth. It was rewarding. Unlike the futility she normally felt at the end of her day—knowing that someone else was sure to pervert her intentions—here at least Blake would take their conversation to heart.

"Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that."

"You're welcome. I'm only glad that you're here to hear me say it. I missed you." In her pain she'd convinced herself that she hadn't. That friends were for the weak and entirely below her, but Ruby had reminded her so thoroughly as to what she'd once had.

"I'm sorry about that too."

"There's no need to mention it. Just like everything else that is in the past. Just… stay in touch. Please."

She didn't want to be so alone again. Ruby's brief calls had meant the world to her. No matter what she was doing, who she was meeting, Ruby's name lighting up her scroll would be her sign to drop everything.

They were painful, ever so painful, but it was a bitter-sweet pain. She loved the sound of Ruby's voice, every word and subtle inflection. She loved hearing about her adventures and about what she'd done in the day, even if it was just walking. And, on the rare occasions that Ruby's signal permitted it, she loved seeing her again. Just staring into her eyes, at her lips, wishing they could be together. Maybe they couldn't. Not right at this time at least. But while Ruby still talked to her there was a chance to win her around. She just had to be better. To try to live up to Ruby's lofty ideals while juggling everything that pressed at her. It was difficult, and she was trying, but the prize would be worth it.

"Of course," Blake said. "Do you have something to write on?" They traded their details. Weiss treated the loose scrap of paper far more reverently than the monogramed business card she'd given Blake.

Her eyes stung as she attempted to commit the number to memory. It just wouldn't happen. Her mind was clouded by the emotional turmoil of the past few hours and having been awake for what must have been approaching an entire day.

Blake noticed the yawn she didn't quite manage to suppress. "I think we both need to get to bed."

Weiss didn't try and lie. "Yeah," she said through a wider yawn. "I'll walk you out."

"That's not necessary."

"I want to."

"Well, thank you. Before we go… do you want me to say anything to Yang?"

The question had been hesitant, as if Blake had reservations about mentioning her. Weiss couldn't help thinking of when Ruby had asked her that same question. Back then she'd said 'no', too proud to grovel to either of them. Now though, with Blake standing there, with her friend back, the longing for the other member of their old team was close to overpowering.

"Just… that I miss her." She did. At times Yang had infuriated her until she desired nothing more than to scream. But so much more often, Yang had been kind, funny, a strong shoulder to lean on, and the life of their team. "And tell her I'm sorry."

Blake hugged her again. "I will," she whispered into her ear. Weiss clutched her tightly. As a visiting dignitary she'd had far too many impersonal handshakes today, but a hug just conveyed so much more. A hug made the Ice Queen feel.

 


	18. Chapter 18

"It's time."

Yang jumped, spilling the glass of iced lemonade that had been balanced on the arm of the deckchair all over herself. The liquid was freezing and instantly banished the pleasant warmth that had accumulated in her skin through an hour in the sun. She leapt up, frantically wiping the drink from her with her hands. It didn't help much; her bikini was already soaked.

"Damn it Raven!" Yang glared at her. It seemed to be her curse to know women who could walk across a room filled with dry branches and bells without making a single sound. First Blake, now Raven. The pair of them must have been keeping score as to who could sneak up on her the most.

"Sorry." Raven held out her hands in a placating manner. "Let me."

"No, don't." Yang danced away from her, attempting to shake the last chips of ice from the inside of her top. It wasn't a dignified display, but she was too pissed off to care. She'd just wanted a few hours of peace to work on the patchy tan she'd accumulated in the desert.

When she was sure she'd removed all the ice she sat back down on her now damp chair, lifting her bare feet from the searing stone of the balcony. Her burned soles just adding to her annoyance. "What?" she spat at Raven and immediately regretted it.

Raven still stood in the exact same position she had been, her hand still halfway up, and a look of intense hurt on her face. Yang breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm down. It had been an accident, and Raven had only been trying to help.

"Sorry." She supposed it could have been worse. At least her top had been tied, and she hadn't treated Raven to a full view of the breasts her genetics had been responsible for. "Did you have to sneak up on me though?"

"I didn't. I knocked first." Even now the pair of them tiptoed around each other, unsure of just what form their relationship took. It was an uneasy relationship, but at least a developing one. With each passing day Yang felt just that little bit more comfortable around her, got to know her a little bit more. She hadn't completely forgiven her yet—she probably never would—but they were getting there.

"Oh…" Yang had been lost in the bliss of the sun and her own thoughts. It was entirely possible that she'd missed a knock on her door. It had been locked but, just like Blake, locks didn't seem to be much of a barrier to Raven. "Haven't you heard of privacy? What if I'd been in the shower?"

"You weren't."

"Well… What if I was rubbing one out?"

"Then I trust Blake would have been disappointed." The words were said in the dry tone of someone refusing to be even the slightest bit embarrassed by their daughter's more private habits. Yang had to wonder what Raven had been like in school. Having grown up with Qrow, she had a pretty good guess.

"Fine. But seriously, knock a little louder next time, please?" Yang ran her hand over her chest. Though her bikini was still a little damp, the sun had banished the chill from her skin. Apart from the stickiness, no major harm had been done.

"Noted."

"Did you want something?"

"As I said, it's time."

"It's time? Why are you always so cryptic?" One of the things she'd noticed was that Raven rarely gave a straight answer.

"It adds to my mysterious air."

Yang wasn't quite sure if Raven was joking or not. There was no easy hint in her completely flat tone. To play it safe Yang forced out a chuckle. The corners of Raven's lips turned up slightly. "Yeah, well very mysterious. What's it time for anyway?"

"Our holiday has been green-lit."

"Really?" Yang sat bolt upright, thoughts of lounging in the sun forgotten. In truth, she wasn't going to complain about two weeks spent relaxing in a palace. Her days and nights were split between the gym, the spa, and a lot of Blake, but with nothing to actually do she was starting to go a little stir-crazy.

In the middle of the city there should have been plenty of activities to attract her attention, but Cinder had  _strongly_ recommended that they remain within the walls of the palace. Yang had been outside a few of times, but that was it. On top of that, in the past few days, her movements inside the palace had been restricted by the Atlesian delegation.

Just being under the same roof as Weiss was close to unbearable. It took all of Yang's willpower not to hunt her down, deck her, and say fuck the consequences. At one time she'd trusted Weiss. She'd been her friend, and Weiss had betrayed her by breaking Ruby's heart. That was quite simply unforgivable for Yang.

But apparently not for Blake. She'd gone to see her, and had apparently been won round by Weiss' lies. Blake had even delivered those same lies to her. Supposedly Weiss  _'missed her'_  and  _'wanted to say she was sorry.'_  Sorry, she told herself, just wasn't good enough. Not when it came to Ruby.

Blake really wasn't helping either. For some reason she kept bringing up Weiss at almost every opportunity; Yang had managed to lose her temper and snap at Blake more than once. Again, Weiss was screwing her over. And yet, while the guilt and anger was bad enough, something else had happened. Since Blake and Weiss had talked, Blake had changed.

Yang couldn't quite put her finger on exactly what it was. Despite knowing Blake so intimately, she couldn't pinpoint it. It was almost indefinable. Blake just seemed... happier. Even that wasn't really fair to say. Since they'd made their relationship official Blake had been exultantly happy—a mirror to Yang's own feelings really. But now, the shadows that sometimes leaked from Blake's eyes whenever she didn't think anyone was looking were gone; if not gone, at least diminished. It was as if some weight had been lifted from Blake's shoulders. And she had Weiss to thank for it.

That pissed her off the most. That Weiss had been able to help Blake where she hadn't. At any other time she would have thanked her. If she tried that, her tongue would have shrivelled up and died before she uttered the first syllable. No, right now decking her was still the preferred option. It was just a good thing they hadn't run into each other in the corridors of the palace

"We're looking to depart within forty-eight hours," Raven said.

"Depart? How?" Cinder had been entirely close-lipped about how they would be getting to Menagerie. With the numbers they were bringing she could only presume the Vacuan military was loaning troop carriers as well.

This time Raven did smile. "At the risk of adding to my mysterious air… That will be revealed in time."

"You're annoying. You know that, don't you?"

"Your father used those exact words."

"Well, he's right." Her dad and Raven did appear to be getting along well. Really well. She didn't quite know whether she should feel happy about that or not. "So, did you only come here to spill lemonade over me?"

"No, my mother wishes to see you."  _Her mother_. After two years Yang had come to terms that Raven being her mother. But accepting a millennia old god who barely looked twenty-five as her grandmother? That was significantly more difficult. That also wasn't counting the fact Cinder had, in Yang's opinion, a major attitude problem.

"So you're here to  _summon_  me?"

"Yang… she wants to see you."

"Then why didn't she come herself?"

"She's very busy."

"So am I."

Raven raised her eyebrow, and made of show of taking in Yang's attire and spilled drink. "You certainly look it."

"You know how hard it is to even up a tan." Though Yang knew Blake wouldn't judge someone solely on aesthetics, she still wanted to look good for her. "It takes work."

Raven sighed. She'd never had to deal with the petulant teenager phase. "Could you please come with me? Blake is already there, and your friend has arrived."

"Who?" Yang asked, abandoning her attitude.

"I… don't recall her name. The rabbit."

"Velvet?"

"That sounds familiar."

Yang jumped up, and slipped on her flats. "What are we waiting for then?"

"I believe we were waiting for you, and I do hope you don't plan on going out like that."

"Why? Don't you think it suits me?" Yang played with the ties on her bikini bottoms. It had been difficult to find any within the conservative city, but she'd lucked out in the back of an Atlesian store.

This time she did manage to put Raven on the spot. Just the slightest hint of red blossomed in her cheeks. "You look very beautiful."

"But I was going for hot."

Raven blushed just that little bit more. "That too."

"Aww, thanks." Yang fluttered her eyelids. It proved too much for Raven, she looked away exasperatedly.

"Now will you get changed?"

"Since you asked so nicely. It's not urgent is it?"

"Not really."

"Great, give me a few minutes to hop in the shower. For some reason I'm all sticky."

It only took her about ten minutes to wash and, thanks to a creative application of her Semblance, even less time to dry her hair. She emerged from the bathroom to find Raven reading a book Blake had left on her bedside table. She sincerely wanted to believe Raven hadn't been anxiously waiting for the latest edition of 'Ninjas of Love'.

"Enjoying yourself?" The fact Raven had been engrossed enough to allow someone to sneak up on her told Yang all she needed to know. On occasion Blake had read some to her… Raven enjoying that particular brand of literature was not a thought she wished to have.

Raven dropped the book as if it were on fire. "No! I was just waiting. Are you ready?"

Yang could have pressed the subject, but instead allowed Raven a respite. "Sure. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Just yourself."

"Where are we—" Raven waved her hand and a portal materialised in the middle of the room. "Oh… do we have to?" Yang said as she stared in the swirling nebulous abyss. She'd gotten used to travelling by portal… mostly. It no longer made her throw up, but at the same time she'd rather not spend the next half an hour feeling as if she were about to.

"Unless you wish to walk halfway across the city?"

Yang swallowed and gritted her teeth. "Fine." Without dwelling on her fate any longer she strode through. The moment she hit the barrier, there was the now familiar feeling of her guts being turned inside out and pressure crushing her from all sides. A step later it ended.

She managed to stay upright as she emerged from the other end, but it was only through supporting herself on the nearest object. It was a shelf, sturdily built from metal, covered in dust, and rising to the ceiling far above. Judging by it and the spotlight hanging down, Raven had brought them to a side room of some kind of warehouse.

Raven herself appeared a moment later, the portal collapsing in on itself right behind her. Her gait was entirely unaffected, and she couldn't quite hide her grin.

"Yeah, yeah. Very funny. I'll remember to throw up on your shoes." Yang released some of her irritation. "Where are we anyway?"

"A warehouse near Geddon. We've been keeping everything under wraps."

"Until now?"

"Until now. Follow."

The soft beat of pop music or light rock came from ahead, intermingled was the sound of voices. Raven pushed open a door with flaking paint to reveal the warehouse proper. It was well lit by the sun streaming in through the high but grimy windows, and the rays revealed the preparations that Cinder and Raven had made.

They were… substantial. Yang knew they had talked about having support from the Vacuan military, but she hadn't quite realised what that meant. The room was dominated by a dozen or more hulking sand-coloured mechs. Vacuan-made, they were even larger than their Atlesian counterparts, and noticeably less-advanced.

Behind the mechs, several artillery pieces were lined up, their barrels parallel to the ground with shells stacked next to them. A missile pod was currently in pieces, being cleaned and checked by technicians. Against all the walls there were rows and rows of munitions and guns. There was so much military hardware in the room, Yang found her mouth open. Cinder had prepared for a war.

Of course, hardware was only useful in the hands of the people who knew how to use it. The soldiers were easy to spot; they clearly had enough free time to bulk up considerably as they sat in their barracks all day. Some of them likely had trouble raising their arms over their heads were they so musclebound.

They might have scared normal people, but the more dangerous by far were those who appeared normal. Those who wouldn't stand out in the middle of a crowded café. She didn't recognise any of the hunters. She supposed Cinder had recruited them.

"So?" Raven asked.

Yang gestured at the mechs. "Are you guys overcompensating for something?"

Rather than rise to the joke Raven's eyes darkened. "You will be glad of them when we arrive on Menagerie."

Yang's levity evaporated. Qrow's warnings and increased drinking had told her just how much he feared going back there, but it was a feeling apparently shared by Raven. "Have you been there?" Raven nodded. "What's it like?"

"There is a reason the island is still uninhabited…" Raven went silent.

"And that is?" Yang prompted after a time.

"The Grimm do not like intruders. There is something in the air there. You'll feel it instantly. It's almost as if you can feel  _them_. Feel their hate. The Grimm shouldn't be able to survive on that island. Not in those numbers. And not when they're bigger than any on the mainland. Yet they do. There is something different about it. You will know when we get there."

 _Well… that wasn't ominous_. Raven appeared to be haunted. She looked identical to Qrow when he talked about Menagerie. Just what had happened on the island to make it like that? Most believed the Faunus had originated there.

"So you're saying I shouldn't bring my bikini?" Yang decided to try and lift the malevolent air.

The unexpected joke worked. Raven bit her lower lip as she tried not to laugh. "I would say not. The beaches leave much to be desired."

"Drat. Maybe you could pick somewhere a little more hospitable than a creepy island in the middle of the ocean next time."

"I'll do my best."

"Good." Yang had finished scanning all the faces in the room. "Where's Cinder anyway? And Blake for that matter?"

"Mother will arrive later."

Yang glared at her. "I thought you'd said I'd been summoned."

"And you have. But even though you are bad at waiting, mother is much worse. I believe Blake and your friend are in the offices in the back."

"You not coming?"

"No." Raven glared at where two of the soldiers were making lewd gestures towards her and more specifically Yang. "I have heads to crack together."

Yang followed her gaze. At one time she would have been only too eager to join her. Now though, she liked to think she'd mellowed. She could let a pair of idiots, be idiots. Not to mention Blake would have disapproved of her getting in another fight. It turned out Blake was a very good influence on her.

Yang started towards the offices. "Good luck."

"I won't need it." Yang didn't doubt that. After noticing the look on Raven's face, the soldiers suddenly seemed very interested in their card game.

Yang had to thread her way through piles of munitions and supplies to get to where Raven had indicated. The corridor beyond was dark and smelled of disuse, but she followed the light streaming from an open door.

Blake was sitting on a desk but, as rare as it was, she didn't monopolise Yang's attention.

"Velvet!" Yang burst into the room, her arms held wide. She slowed as she took in the entirety of the scene. Velvet was staring at the disgusting carpet, her ears drooping down over her face, and Blake's arm was wrapped around her. Yang lowered her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Hi Yang." Velvet tried to smile, she really did, but the smile never quite managed to reach her eyes. They were rimmed with red.

"What's wrong?" Yang repeated. She'd never thought any reunion would be quite like this.

Velvet went back to counting the number of stains on the carpet. Blake squeezed her. "She and Coco had an argument." It was said in barely a whisper, but there was no way that Velvet wouldn't hear. A small shudder ran through her body.

"I think we broke up," Velvet managed to get out, before she broke into fresh tears.

"No…" Velvet and Coco had always been so strong together. So suited to each other. Yang couldn't imagine either of them without the other. She knelt on the carpet and placed her hand on Velvet's knee. "What happened?"

"I… I don't know. Just… I told her about your message. Said I wanted to help, and she said I couldn't. She said I wasn't allowed. As if it was her decision to make." A hint of strength entered Velvet's voice. "I told her I was going whether she came or not, and then she straight up said I wasn't. That she wasn't going to buy the ticket and so I was stuck. Like I rely on her for everything. I have my own money."

"I know. I know." Blake rubbed her back. She had a better idea than most what the average life of a Faunus was like. The squalor and poverty. Maybe Velvet had relied on Coco financially a significant amount, but no one wanted to be beholden to the person they were going out with.

"I was going to buy her a gift. One with money I'd earned. It was meant to be special. Now it's gone. When she found my bags packed, she shouted at me. Straight up forbade me from going. I hate fighting. I just walked out. Now she hates me."

"I'm sure she doesn't." Blake's attempt to console her was in vain.

"She does."

"You had a fight. They happen," Yang added. If there was any area that she had expertise over the other two in, rocky relationships were it. "And in a few days, she'll call you. Or you'll call her. And you'll talk. You'll realise how much you miss each other, and you'll make up."

Velvet shook her head, her ears flapping from side to side. "I don't think we will. You didn't see her. She was really mad. I don't think I've ever seen her that mad before."

"It was the heat of the moment. She'll cool off. Trust me. She was probably just worried about you." They'd asked Velvet to sacrifice a lot to be here. To put herself in harm's way when she didn't have to. As much as it frustrated Yang, she could understand why Coco had decided to stay away. But that only meant she was even more grateful that Velvet hadn't.

"She did say Vacuo was too dangerous."

"You see. She wasn't angry at you." Yang couldn't resist hugging her any longer. She threw her arms around Velvet and easily lifted her from the desk, spinning her around in the circle. As intended a laugh escaped into the air. Yang grinned as well. She set Velvet down and held her at arm's length. "Just give it a day and then call her. Everything will be alright. Trust me."

This time the smile did reach Velvet's eyes. They lit up. "I've missed you."

"Same here." They'd video-chatted in the last few days, but that was it. "Thanks so much for coming."

"Don't mention it." A rare, hard quality entered the usually timid girl's voice. "Seriously, don't. After what he did. He needs to be stopped, and I'm not going to sit on the side-lines."

A chill ran down Yang's spine. There was an old saying her dad had once told her, ' _There are three things all wise men fear: the growls of Grimm, a night with no moon, and the anger of a gentle man.'_  Left to her own devices, Velvet wouldn't have hurt a fly. She was one of the kindest and most considerate people that Yang knew, and also one of the most terrifying. They'd all seen what Velvet was capable of.

"Well, we'll need you."

"It looks like it. Have you seen what's out there? I know you told me this was going to be big, but I'd never thought this big."

"In all honesty, me neither. Still, at least you're here now." The three of them had been catching up for about ten minutes when they were interrupted.

"Sup," Sun said from where he was leaning against the door frame. As always, his shirt was left hanging open, exposing abs which could have doubled as a cheese grater.

"Hey." Yang nodded in his direction. Sun had arrived a couple of days before with the rest of his team. She'd have been lying if she said she hadn't been a little bit concerned to see him again. He still had his roguish good looks, and a body that many would kill for. It had been wrong to doubt Blake, but she hadn't been able to help it. Thankfully, her jealousy hadn't found a target; they'd greeted each other as friends and nothing more.

He still thought he was much cooler than he was though, and he was most definitely too cool to squeal as she had when he saw Velvet again. Instead he strutted up to her—which was the only real way to describe his walk. His hug was real though, and he whispered something into her ears that Yang couldn't quite hear.

"Oh yeah Yang, your uncle wanted you," Sun said.

Cinder really had summoned them all. "Why?"

"That's for you to find out. Blake, you might want to go as well. They're just down the hall."

"Sure…" Blake wasn't too convinced. "Are you ok Velvet?"

"Yep." She sounded much perkier than before. "Sun can keep me company."

"Let's go then. See you in a bit." The two of them left. Halfway down the hall a very familiar, but almost forgotten voice boomed out. They traded a glance.

"No way," Yang said. "No fucking way." She couldn't believe her ears, but they weren't lying to her. As they rounded a corner she found her uncle and ̶ ̶

"Yang! Blake! My girls." Port's stomach bounced even more than it had when he'd been giving lectures.

"Professors?" Blake said.

"Doctor," Doctor Oobleck corrected. "Though it's technically not correct to call either of us professor anymore, but nevertheless it is very good to see you both. I trust you have been staying safe. We were awfully concerned when you disappeared from your mission back in Vale, but considering the circumstances, we can fully understand it. Qrow has been filling us in. Quite a tale indeed." Breathing still wasn't something Oobleck bothered with when talking.

"Doctor." Blake only managed to get one word out before Oobleck jumped back in.

"No, no. Please, call me Bartholomew."

"Or Barty," Port said.

"Do not call me Barty."

"Ignore him he likes it."

They were different from how Yang remembered them, and then she realised why. They weren't treating her as their student. Now they were addressing her as an equal. Yang was at a loss for words. She was actually struggling to correlate what the reality was with what her eyes and ears were telling her. Her old teachers couldn't be here, not in a warehouse on the other side of the planet. And yet, no matter how many times she blinked, they didn't disappear.

Port had put on weight, his belly stretching out even further over his belt; his hair and moustache were suspiciously dark. Even if he'd been enjoying his retirement, Yang didn't have to look long to see the hunter who—if his own stories were to be believed—had killed Grimm on every single continent and was missed by a countless number of damsels he'd saved.

Oobleck looked good. He still hadn't managed to kick his caffeine habit, but he'd barely changed in the two years since Yang had seen him last. All she'd heard was that they hadn't returned to their positions at Beacon when the school had been reopened. What they'd done afterwards was anyone's guess.

"How are you here?" Yang asked.

Qrow answered her. "I figured we might need a little bit of help. I couldn't think of anyone better than these two. Even if I did kick their ass whenever we decided to show Beacon who had the better teachers."

"That was one time!" Port squared up to him.

"I think you're getting forgetful in your old age. It was at least three."

"Old? I'll have you know I'm in the prime of my life. And I'm surprised you can recall anything more than a blur given how you turned up drunk."

"It's called tolerance grandad. Regardless, what does that say about you if you still lost to me when I was off my face?"

"That I went easy on you. Anyway, I'll think you'll find we always sent you back to Signal with your tails between your legs."

"Only because no one else could handle Glynda…" The good-natured argument tailed off, a shadow descended on them.

"May she rest in peace." Oobleck's voice was quiet and sombre, a far cry from his usual. The words were echoed by all those in the room.

An uncomfortable silenced formed. Talk of the dead was rarely welcome around the living. It was only a reminder of just how fragile life really was. It was a shame. Up to this point, the attitude of Qrow and Port had been a revelation. There was a slight rivalry between Signal and Beacon, but not much of one. Signal was a feeder school. She'd never have imagined that the teachers had competitions to see which faculty was better. They'd managed to keep it quiet at any rate.

"Anyway," Qrow said with forced cheer. "I extended an invitation to the pair of them."

"And grateful I am." Port's voice recovered its usual power. "The sabbatical is enjoyable and all, despite the disgusting lack of Grimm, but how could turn it down? A hunt. To Menagerie no less—the island and I have unfinished business—and at the end of it, perhaps the greatest prize of all to adorn my wall. I couldn't say no."

Oobleck jumped in. "Indeed. I hardly dared to believe him. A dragon of all creatures. It's too good to be true. It needs to be documented, recorded. If there is one on the island, so many legends suddenly become more plausible. It was opportunity too important to leave to others."

"You can take all the pictures you want, but remember there's a place on my wall with the dragon's name on it."

"You keep what you kill," Qrow said.

"And we all know whose axe is going to find the beast's heart."

"Keep dreaming. It's not going to roll over for you."

Yang and Blake exchanged a look. Qrow and Port were behaving just like two overly-competitive teenagers. It was true that all teachers had a side of themselves they didn't show their pupils. The pair of them kept ripping into each other.

"You do realise that there might not be a dragon, right? So all this arguing is irrelevant." Taiyang appeared in the doorway. He gave Yang's shoulder a quick squeeze. At one time she would have recoiled from him. Now she appreciated the gesture.

"Nonsense. A hunt to save the world. It has to have a dragon at the end of it. Didn't he ever read you those stories Yang?" Port asked.

"Yeah, he did." Those nights curled in bed, sometimes with Ruby alongside her, and both her parents gathered around were happy ones. "I'm not sure if there were dragons though."

"There were a couple." Taiyang smiled at the recollection. "Anyway, you'll have to save your argument for later. Cinder's arrived. She wishes to address everyone, and I pity the person who keeps her waiting around."

Their group left the offices and entered the main room of the warehouse again. The crowd gathered around a makeshift podium made of crates that was larger than Yang had expected. There must have been a hundred and fifty or so people and the murmur of excited conversation permeated the air. No doubt they'd all been as bored as her.

Velvet and Sun were near the back, the rest of his team gathered near them. Yang bumped Neptune's offered fist. Her first impressions of him might not have been positive—and in truth neither had her second, third, and many more—but she'd been glad to see him. In Vale he'd shown who he was when he wasn't trying to act cool.

Yang attempted to see the podium. Attempted because, despite being over six-feet tall, everyone in front of her appeared to have a thyroid mutation. Her dad noticed her standing on her tiptoes, and leant into her ear.

"You can sit on my shoulders if you want?"

She punched him playfully on the arm, but any retort was curtailed as the murmuring quieted. Wearing a more reserved dress than usual, Cinder climbed on top of the crates. She appraised them all before speaking in a clear voice that carried.

"Good afternoon. To those of you who don't recognise me, I'm a special advisor to his Supreme Excellency the King. He wished to be here today, but matters of state took precedence. Every person in this room has been handpicked for a mission of vital importance to the future of this country. Your names may never go down in the history books, but you will be able to look back and know you changed the world.

"You are the best of the best that Vacuo has to offer. You can stand against any force on this planet, and you will have to. I'm sorry that is has been necessary to keep you in the dark up until now, but this matter has been too sensitive to risk the slightest leak. Your destination is Menagerie." There was a surge of voices as those who hadn't been aware conversed with their neighbours. Cinder waited patiently for them to die down. Her persona was not the one that Yang had experience with.

"You will be the Vanguard. You will land on an island just off the coast and secure it for a larger force to be deployed. It will not be easy. Many of you will be hurt. Many of you will bleed. And some of you may die. But through your sacrifice, you will ensure the survival of those you love. Your sacrifice will not be in vain, and you shall not be forgotten.

"Your officers will now provide your tactical briefing. Enjoy this night, but make sure you rest. You will need it. At twenty one hundred hours tomorrow, be prepared to fight. Thank you."

Cinder was not applauded off the stage, her departure was barely acknowledged. The soldiers who'd been kept in the dark were too engrossed in discussing the mission they'd  _volunteered_  for. There was more than one mutter of 'suicide'.

Yang was at least grateful she hadn't been kept so ignorant. She'd at least become accustomed to the idea that they were going to Menagerie, and she had barely a day to prepare.

Yang stepped through Raven's portal and reappeared in the warehouse. This time she managed to stay upright on her own, but likely only due to the adrenaline coursing through her system. It had been so severe she'd hit the gym and barely made a dent in her pent-up energy. The wait was always the worst part, and it was almost over.

She was ready, at least as ready as she could be. Ember Celica was freshly cleaned and strapped to her wrists. Dust rounds were secured on her belt and in her rucksack. One advantage of being associated with Cinder was that worries about cost were no longer relevant.

The translocation had Blake a little worse for wear, but of course her dad, uncle, and Raven didn't appear affected. Not that they were happy. All of their faces were tight with worry and nerves. Raven's most of all. She wouldn't be coming with them. Wouldn't be able to protect them until she joined them with the main force.

Her portal had materialised in the side room it had before, and Yang led the way. The soldiers had been busy in her absence. All the military hardware had been arranged in a tight group at the centre of the room; the crates and supplies stood protected by a ring of mechs. It still didn't make sense to Yang. Shouldn't they have been loaded onto a transport by now? Lost in thought, she hadn't been watching where she was going.

"Yang!" An angry cry rang into the air at the same time her boot crunched on something. Dust to be specific. Dust drawn into an intricate pattern. "Damnit." It was a sign of the stress Velvet was under that she actually swore.

Gingerly Yang withdrew her boot. A fat tread mark was imprinted on the powder, ruining the delicate composition. "Sorry."

Velvet shook her head as she began to repair the damage, pulling a small brush from her box. She'd been busy. The Dust was not localised before the door. It bordered the entire perimeter of the room and then spiralled inwards, leaving a clearing in the middle barely large enough for the hardware and people already sitting next to them.

"What's all this for?" Yang asked.

"How did you think you were getting to Menagerie?" Cinder spoke from right behind her, her voice containing a hint of scorn. Raven had evidently gone back for her, and the person next to her. Juno peered closely at Velvet's repairs.

"I'll tell you what Cinder, you have a rare one here. I didn't even show her what I was doing. She managed to work it out by herself."

Velvet flushed bright red. "It wasn't that hard. I mean, it's mainly energy capture and redirection, with a few more parts I don't quite recognise. Anyone would have seen if they looked hard enough." Yang did just that. The Dust still appeared to be random squiggles to her. She might not have paid as much attention as she could have in her Dust theory classes, but there was a reason why most who knew her considered Velvet a prodigy.

"Child, I can't recall the last time I encountered someone with your aptitude. You could go far."

"Take it from me. That is a rare compliment," Cinder said.

"Thanks." Velvet's ears descended to partly hide her face from the attention. "I still don't get what it's meant to be doing though. It's unstable. Nothing could be able to survive this much energy."

"And that, child, is where you have much to learn. Perhaps I can pass on a few tips of the trade if we get the chance."

"Really?" Yang couldn't help but grin at Velvet's star struck reaction.

"Yes." Juno ran her gaze over Velvet's repairs. "Good work. Now that your friends have finally joined us, I can begin. Go and sit in the middle with the rest, and be sure not to step on anything else."

Yang didn't move. "Wait. You can begin?" She recalled what Juno had done to the wine bottle the first time they'd met. "Just how are we getting there?"

Juno rolled her eyes and glanced at Cinder. "It appears you genes run strong." Cinder answered with a scowl, before Juno turned her attention back to Yang. "Isn't it obvious by now? My Semblance of course."

"You're teleporting us? Straight there?"

"In the common vernacular."

"You can't." It was impossible. "Your Semblance can't reach all the way there." At best Raven could do a couple of miles. Most with external Semblances couldn't stretch them more than a few hundred meters away. Let alone across continents.

"Normally no. But that's where all this comes in." Juno waved her hand at the Dust.

"Is it safe?" Velvet's eyes were wide as she looked up. Her usual nerves returning now that there was nothing to occupy her.

"Trust me. I've been doing this significantly longer than you've been alive. I haven't made a mistake yet." That had a lot more weight for Yang than Velvet. After a lot of discussion, they'd decided against telling their friends the truth about Ozpin, Cinder, and Juno. They'd had a hard enough time convincing them to work with Cinder without giving them cause to think the pair of them were crazy. "You won't feel a thing."

"Yes. It's entirely painless," Cinder said. "Can we get on with it? Daylight is slipping." Yang frowned, the windows outside were dark. As Juno walked off, Cinder stopped the rest of them. "We'll be there in a day with backup. Stay safe, and hold your position." She didn't move to hug them, but Yang had never got the hugging vibe from her.

Raven did though, and squeezed especially hard to make up for it. She whispered in Yang's ear. "Look after yourself, and keep your eye on the rest of them. They'll need it. I love you." Yang couldn't say it back. She hadn't quite managed it yet, but Raven had accepted it. She kissed her sloppily on the cheek before moving on to her dad.

Blake leant into her. "So what do you think?"

Yang replied honestly. "I think we're fucking crazy."

Blake grinned. "Good. I wouldn't want to be the only one."

After the last goodbyes, they tiptoed their way through the Dust and sat with the rest of the soldiers and hunters. All were checking their weapons. The mechs shifting as their pilots fidgeted.

Yang could only be glad that Ruby wasn't going on this mission. There was guilt at that thought though. Ruby was old enough to make her own decision, but events had accelerated so rapidly she hadn't even had the chance to ask. Her scroll had been quiet for the past few days, but Ruby had warned them that was likely to be the case. Yang wasn't worried. Yet.

Yang jumped when the Dust all around flared to life. It started gradually. Blues and reds mingling together, painting the entire warehouse purple. Fire blossomed in the air around them, over them, cocooning them in its brilliance. The streams all flowed in one direction, towards a figure sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Juno began to glow. Not red, but white, brilliant, radiant white. It began softly under her skin, but before long was so intense Yang had no choice but to shield her eyes. The roaring of the flames competed with the crackle of lightning as yellow Dust was brought into play.

The air in the warehouse was positively electric. So much energy flowed through it that all her hairs stood on end—even the ones on her head began to repel each other. Her skin tingled and her muscles twitched. It wasn't exactly painful. Cinder hadn't lied to them. But it wasn't particularly pleasant either. Her head spun and her stomach lurched.

The maelstrom around her vanished in an instant. Sunlight took its place. Bright, clear sunlight. If not for the flames, it would have dazzled her eyes. As it was they adjusted quickly. The warehouse had vanished, instead a chill, stinging wind bit at her skin. Beneath her was black rock, an old volcanic flow solidified millennia ago. Juno had teleported them to what amounted to a beach. A hundred or so feet in front of them, angry waves surged at the intruders only to be rebutted by gravity. And beyond that, shrouded in mist and with grey clouds looming above, the island of Menagerie rose from the sea. She may not have ever seen more than pictures, but she knew. She just knew. The foreboding presence Qrow had warned them of reached her even here. She shivered, and it wasn't to do with the chill of the wind. The island was evil.

Up above, surfing the currents of air, a Nevermore spotted the new arrivals. It let out a screech of fury unmatched by any normal animal. Then it dived.

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

"So, what do you think?" King Badr asked as he showed Weiss through the gate into his private gardens.

"It's impressive." It was the diplomatic answer. It would have been foolish in the extreme to express dislike of something that the king obviously enjoyed. Even though her reply might have been tempered by ever-present need for diplomacy, it was still the truth. The gardens were impressive.

It seemed to be common among people who had everything to find pleasure in the simple things that most overlooked. Well-tended gardens were a status symbol, but she'd always enjoyed spending time surrounded by nature. The miles of painstakingly cultivated flowerbeds on the Schnee Estate were proof to that.

Her gardeners faced many of the same challengers that the palace staff here did. Frozen tundras and scorching deserts were not suitable environments to grow the delicate flowers that formed the basis on any floral display. It was egotistical indeed to ignore such basic facts, but few rose to a position of true power by limiting themselves to what seemed possible.

Naturally, there were differences between an Atlesian garden and a Vacuan one. The harsh sun ensured the flowered plants in front of her had narrower petals, better for retaining water, and the colours were different too.

Most of her flowerbeds were filled with whites, blues, reds. Natural flowers that managed to struggle through a fresh covering of snow. Vacuan flora was dominated by yellows and oranges. It was almost as if the burning sun had been captured in the beds. Most might have been the native flowers, but in the age of global commerce, she recognised more than a few from her homeland.

"Is that Vulpes Garland?" The pure white flowers climbed up a wooden lattice.

"Why, yes it is." There was a hint of surprise in his reserved tone. "I wasn't aware that you had a green thumb?"

Weiss smiled sweetly. This was the reason why she hated politics. Unless his preparation had been severely lacking, Badr would have known exactly what her likes and dislikes were. Just as she knew his. It would have been so much easier to have a frank discussion, but it simply wasn't done.

"I wouldn't say I often have the opportunity to get my hands dirty, but I'm involved in the process."

"No, no, I wouldn't imagine you would. I'm lucky enough that I can delegate all the boring minutiae to the Council. It leaves me free to do pursue my interests." He brushed one of the petals with his thumb. "It's a beautiful flower, but it isn't suited to the climate. Much like you."

The smile on her face didn't slip. She was far too experienced for that. At one time the conjugation of compliment and insult would have had her blushing and thrown off-balance. Now it was par for the course.

"You would be surprised by the extent Atlesian flowers can take root."

Badr inclined his head towards her. It had been a well-formulated riposte. "You're right of course. It kept dying back in the beginning—the sun was too much for it. It took a lot of work to get it to this state. But even now, even though it looks so healthy, I fear it's only a matter of time until it withers."

He could have been talking about the plant. They both knew he wasn't. These days it was a rare conversation that she only had the most superficial level to keep track of. It was an apt metaphor though. At the moment, Atlesian-Vacuan relations were much like those flowers. Healthy, prosperous, and with room to grow, but its vitality was precarious. Even though Vacuan officials had done their best to limit her exposure to protests, she wasn't stupid. There was an abundant amount of apathy towards Atlas, and her in particular.

Before making the trip, she'd expected Badr to be the one stonewalling the trade agreement. In truth he was, but he'd only been bowing to the wishes of some of his subordinates. From his subtle commentaries at official functions, she'd gleaned that he only wished for their alliance to deepen. Despite interacting dozens of times, this was the first that they'd been alone. Truly alone, without a score of hangers-on and security shadowing their every footstep. Even so, as true as it was the walls had ears, there was a chance the shrubbery did as well.

"Well perhaps it needs a steadier hand guiding it, or maybe a pair of hands."

"Two gardeners would fare better than one, but the winds that blow in from the desert are often harsh and unforgiving."

The Satraps on the fringes of Vacuo were her main opposition. They had more to lose in an expanded trade agreement than most. Their wealth was reliant on the produce of their satrapies. An influx of foreign goods would destroy the markets they'd spent so long cultivating.

"Then perhaps a wall should be built to curtail its power."

"Alas, there will always be winds in the desert. They cannot be ignored."

"And I suppose it cannot be bargained with?"

"From some directions no, but from others it might be redirected in promise of bounty."

"That does seem promising."

So far the Satraps had largely avoided her and Winter, instead working behind their backs to undo any progress that they made. If she could get a couple of them sat down in a room she would be able to talk them round. No one was incorruptible. Especially the rich who had an awful lot to lose.

"Indeed it does. Perhaps I sense a change in the air."

"Let us hope so," Weiss agreed.

* * *

 

"May I present his Grand Excellency Satrap Aatish." The servant bowed him through the door as Weiss rose from her seat. To be honest she hadn't been entirely sure if Badr would live up to his subtle promise. He didn't appear to have as much control over his satraps as many would think. They were too independent and based too far from the capital. But, when the invitation came, neither she nor Winter had been able to risk ignoring it. All they needed was to get one satrap onside and then, with the gathered momentum, the rest would be forced to fall in line or get left behind.

Weiss approached him, her best smile on her face, while she tried to recall everything she knew of Aatish. Satrap of the region of Airtafae. Main exports meat and some rare metals. Known as something of a firebrand. She'd heard whispers he'd been arguing for the right to carry out border raids against Vale, but he'd gone to school in Atlas. Accustomed to Atlesian ways, perhaps he could see the benefits of the trade deal.

"Satrap Aatish, it is a pleasure to meet you again." They'd met before, but never alone. Tonight it was just him, her, and Winter.

He took her offered hand. From the calluses on his palm and the strength of his grip it was clear his broad shoulders weren't solely the product of a gym or hard work. He knew how to fight. The etiquette of how to shake a hand had been another topic of her exhaustive lessons growing up. She knew exactly how to make it look good for the cameras, how much force to apply, and where to place her fingers. They were lessons Aatish had not attended, or at least his had been different. He attempted to crush her hand in a show of nothing but dominance.

"Likewise. I feel that you are barely in one place long enough for us to talk candidly."

"There's no time to start like the present."

"Which is why I'm here. And I'm lucky enough to have not just one, but two beautiful ladies with me. Your reputations are not unfounded." Aatish didn't lack for confidence. In his youth he'd had a bit of reputation that didn't tie with the conservative culture of his homeland.

As Winter moved forward, Weiss gave her a subtle warning. It was only a twitch of the eyebrow but Winter picked up on it. She couldn't match his raw muscle, but she almost gave as good as she got.

"The pleasure is all ours," Winter said as they ceased their battle. "My sources tell me you've had a busy day."

Aatish laughed, good-natured and loud. "Your sources are well placed. I'd be very interested to know who they are."

"A lady never tells." Unless Weiss' imagination was deceiving her, Winter fluttered her eyelashes in Aatish's direction. Winter had never been above using her looks to gain an advantage. To be honest, when her appearance was enough to make a monk question his oaths, who could blame her?

"I would never dream of putting you in such a position. Your little birds are quite right. I couldn't resist the call of the hunt, and it's left me ravenous. Shall we?" He moved to the head of the table and held a chair out. It was technically the role of a servant, but he was going against the expectation Weiss had of him. She sat down in the proffered seat, and he repeated the manoeuvre for Winter.

"So tell us, what were you hunting?" Weiss said as the servants came forward to fill up their wine glasses. It was good vintage, mellow and with the slight kick that told her it was Vacuan in origin.

"Just a pair of Deathstalkers that had strayed a little too close to the city. I had to get out of the palace after all this talking. I'm sure you can both understand."

Weiss nodded. At times she wanted nothing more than to get out of the office and go into the wild; to think of simpler things. A part of her was incredibly jealous that Ruby was able to do just that. To explore and fulfil her desires. Blake and Yang too. In fact Blake had sent her a message the previous day saying they'd outstayed their welcome, but had promised to stay in touch. They were all able to do whatever they wanted, while she'd forgotten the meaning of what it was to be free.

"I'd heard that Vacuan Deathstalkers are much fiercer than ones anywhere else," Winter said. She'd always been more adept at small talk, and pandering to someone's ego was a good way to keep them entertained.

"Absolutely. I take it you've never fought one?"

"Not one from Vacuo."

"Shame. It's true what they say. They're a good deal bigger and they have more armour, but it's their minds you need to watch out for. The Valesh ones are as dumb as a brick. They just come straight at you. Vacuan Grimm know better than that. They choose where to fight, and they make it count."

"It sounds dangerous."

"Yes, but it's also a lot more fun. It's actually a proper fight, not just an extermination. Tell you what, next time I hear of the opportunity, I'll send you an invite." Badr really sounded as if he couldn't think of anything better than trekking through the desert with a fight at the end of it. Weiss tried to picture Winter doing just that. She couldn't. At all.

"As fun as that sounds, you'll have to fight for my time with everyone else here."

"I'm sure you're worth fighting for."

Weiss resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. She'd heard worse chat up lines, but not many. Thankfully they were saved from any others by the arrival of the first course. Over the past week, she must have had at least one formal meal per day, sometimes multiple ones. The food was still exquisite, but by now she was longing to whip up a meal in her kitchen. Something not fancy and actually filling. It was yet another wish that was denied to her. She'd probably give the staff in the kitchen here a heart attack if she started cooking.

She also wasn't particularly fond of Vacuan cuisine. At the best of times she didn't eat all that much ̶ ̶ even when it was food she liked ̶ ̶ but here she had to force herself to swallow so she didn't risk offending her hosts. It really didn't help that most of the plates served to her were drenched in an almost unpalatable combination of herbs and spices. Beneath them all, the type of meat she was eating was entirely concealed. She realised that was the original point, but still. If she had the chance to bring one thing back from her trip to Vacuo, the food most definitely wouldn't have been made the cut.

So she chewed her steak as if it had come from the finest Atlesian restaurant. So did Winter. More than once in the privacy of their rooms they'd shared their notes about this trip. Winter might have questioned her attendance after finding her that one night, but they were making a lot more progress than either of them would have alone.

The trade deal would happen. Tens of thousands of Atlesian and Vacuan jobs would be created whether or not they managed to get the satraps on board. They'd both had enough meetings with business owners and politicians to see the desire for it within the capital. It would make an awful lot of people rich, and they could only see the potential lien.

Of course, there was another side of the coin. At the moment it was the one which bore Aatish's head, but with a little negotiation perhaps he could be persuaded to convert. Weiss waited until after they'd finished their main course to bring up the… meat… of their discussion so to speak.

"Shall we get down to business?"

"Ahh... our friendly conversation is over I take it?" Aatish said.

"Not at all. I'd like to believe that all of us can remain fast friends."

"Friends as opposed to enemies? We all know exactly what happens to the people who make their way onto your list."

Weiss smiled in response to the opening salvo. The tone for their negotiation had been set. Winter spoke. "Friends as opposed to acquaintances. Any decisions you make will be respected, but you'll find there are many benefits to a long and healthy relationship with the SDC."

"And with Atlas in general," Weiss said. The pair of them formed a partnership at the negotiating table that was equal to any team formed in a combat school. It was at this point their quarry usually realised they were caught in a pincer movement.

Aatish chuckled, looking between them both. "Being friends with benefits is always welcome."

"Absolutely." Winter didn't rise to the bait. "And you'll find that the benefits you stand to gain are both significant and numerous."

"And those would be?"

"Use your imagination. You know what we are proposing. Those who add their signature first will be in prime position to choose their boon."

"Why don't give an example?"

"If you wish. Last fiscal year Airtafae imported eighty-seven million liens worth of Dust." Weiss wasn't surprised Winter had the number memorised. "Currently, our product has to go through a very long and arduous import procedure. With the trade deal that will be simplified. We predict a drop of three point one percent and of course we'll pass the savings onto you." Whether he chose to pass those saving on to his subjects was his decision.

"Certainly tempting, but in my life I've always found that the most steadfast friendships are two-sided. That seems like an awfully big benefit from a simple signature."

"But what we're asking of you  _is_  simple," Weiss said. "We only want for you to mention the benefits to your own friends."

"Yes, but they are sure to reply with some of the drawbacks."

"And what might they be?" Weiss had heard them all before of course, and in great detail, but any mentioned now would be the ones which lay closest to Aatish's heart.

"There are many people in Vacuo who live simple lives. Who herd goats and scratch what crops they can from the land. My friends are worried about what would happen to them in the event this deal goes ahead. The flood of Atlesian produce will surely make their lives untenable."

"Perhaps, but they will find many new opportunities opened to them. The Vacuan job market will grow by eight percent. They will be able to find new jobs." It was the sad truth that some would be affected adversely by the deal, but the benefit to the country as a whole was much greater.

"And lose the way of life that their ancestors have practiced for countless generations."

"The only certainty in the world is that it does not remain still. With or without this deal, their lives will one day become unliveable. It is better for them to head it off now, while they have plentiful opportunities, than to wait and possibly suffer."

"As for the SDC," Winter added the weight of her argument. "I can guarantee that we have several possible plans in the pipeline that would result in the opening of facilities either in or around Airtafae. To make them tenable we would need this trade deal, but they alone would create several thousand jobs. Not counting those who support the facilities. The tax revenue will more than make up for any shortfall."

"And I'm sure that many other Atlesian companies have the same plans only with the eventual destinations undecided. With a little pushing from us, Airtafae's economy could boom."

Aatish leant back in his chair, cradling his wine glass in his hand. "You certainly make a compelling argument. I am… interested in becoming you friend, but I'm going to need some more details first."

Weiss and Winter exchanged a glance. The hardest part was done. They'd gotten one of the satraps to listen to them. The details were mere trivialities. There was no way he wouldn't be receptive to them. One of the major roadblocks had been removed. With any luck, their trip to Vacuo was nearing an end with a successful resolution.

"Fire away."

* * *

 

Aatish burped. Not loudly. It was a slip up, but it at least showed how comfortable he was in the company of his new  _friends_. "Excuse me."

Weiss inclined her head. She hadn't had quite as much of the wine as he had. It was always unwise to drink extensively in a situation where words might be reported back and repeated. She'd seen far too many lords and ladies from Atlas have their position in the social hierarchy forever marred by a single drunken mistake.

"Not a problem." Winter smiled at him. "Is there anything else you'd like us to clear up?" They'd spent what must have been the last two hours explaining and planning all the benefits he would receive for his assistance.

"No, no, I think we are completely on the same page now." He held up his hand and waved it around. "But what we do need is to celebrate. Najma!" he shouted loud enough that both Weiss and Winter recoiled. A few seconds later a servant entered and bowed low to the three of them.

"Yes your Excellency."

"Go and fetch the wine. The one I told you to put on ice."

"Right away your Excellency."

"I've had enough of drinking this swill." Aatish drained the remnants of liquid in his glass. "I brought a couple of bottles from my own collection, including one for this very occasion. Ah… here it is." Najma had returned with a cooler and three glasses. "I thought you would like a reminder of home. Show it to them. Bottled a dozen miles outside Atlas, at one of the vineyards you own, and before the Great War I might add. My great-grandfather bought a crate. There are only a few left, but I can't think of a more fitting circumstance."

Weiss examined the offered bottle. It did indeed bear the Schnee crest and the name of a vineyard her family had owned for countless generations. Judging by the date printed on the label, its vintage was excellent. Atlesian wine had a unique, and in her biased opinion, unmatched taste. Growing grapes on the tundra was difficult in the extreme, but where alcohol was concerned, people managed to find a way.

"We're honoured," Winter said.

"Nonsense. The honour is mine. I have to say the rumours I'd heard about the pair of you were utterly unfounded."

"What rumours?" Weiss asked. As ever gossip was the most valuable currency in the world.

"Let's not ruin the moment by speaking of utter idiots. It's their loss I say. Would you smell that?" He drew in a deep breath over the mahogany liquid that had just been passed to them.

Weiss did so. She recognised the unique scent immediately. Due to the cold, the grapes of Atlesian vineyards were smaller than most, and the wine produced from them more bitter. To her palate, it complimented a much wider range of meals.

"A toast then. To friendship and a prosperous future," Aatish said.

"To friendship," she and Winter repeated before they clinked glasses.

Weiss took a long sip, swirling the liquid around her mouth, savouring the taste. It wasn't the best wine she'd ever experienced, but it came close. It was fitting reward after a hard, but ultimately extremely fruitful day. She leant back in her chair, knowing her job had been well done. The future she and Winter had envisaged almost a year ago was one step closer.

They didn't continue with business after that. Instead she mainly let Aatish regale them with tales of his hunting exploits. She had to stifle a yawn. The warm night air blowing through the windows, the heady taste of vintage alcohol, the gentle drone of Aatish's deep voice, and a morning that had started before the sun had risen, were all combining to make her mind wander. She caught her eyelids a moment before they closed. Perhaps a few minutes of sleep wouldn't be amiss, and maybe Aatish wouldn't notice. Or maybe she should just go to bed. Yes… that was probably the better idea.

Winter's head thumped into the table. It was the noise more than the sight that caused Weiss to fight against her fatigue. A loud bang at a dinner table just wasn't right. Winter's eyes were closed, her head resting on the tablecloth, and mahogany liquid crawled its way towards her.

Wine… the wine. Weiss flared her Aura. Her thoughts became a little more ordered. The tiredness. It wasn't normal. Poison, it had to be. She'd been poisoned. Aatish watched her with half-closed eyes, a line of drool running down from the side of his mouth. It had to have been the wine.

Weiss staggered upright, her head spun and her legs shook. It was so much worse than being drunk. She poured as much into her Aura as she dared. It could help with poison, she'd been told that. With her weaker Aura, her sister had already succumbed. "Help!" Weiss cried, or at least tried to. Her voice lacked any form of power.

"You're wasting your breath. No one's going to come," Aatish's voice was slightly slurred as he rose from his seat.

"What did you do?" She could only remain upright by holding on to the back of her chair.

"What I had to. Vacuo will never become a vassal state of Atlas," he growled. He had a lot more body mass than her and likely had only been making a show of drinking.

At any other time she might have debated with him. Right now she had to get Winter and herself out of here. Find her security detail or the palace guards that were loyal to the king. Someone who would help her. And that meant getting past him.

She twitched her fingers. An ethereal glyph formed in the air. Her legs almost collapsed under her. The glyph was weak, barely there. As she'd poured her limited Aura into it, the poison had regained some ground.

Aatish grinned as he took in her attempt at fighting. He reached under the table where he'd been sitting and pulled out a hidden hilt. A blade extended in his hand. He advanced towards her.

She was scared then. Properly scared. Not of phantoms, but of reality. But she was a Schnee, and a Schnee wouldn't be beaten so easily. She tapped into the Dust sewn into her underwear. Rather than channel it into a glyph, she directed the energy inwards. Cold swept through her. Biting cold. Bone-chilling cold. It was painful. Ever so painful. Most people would have collapsed agony. She was not most people. The pain gave her strength.

Her spinning glyph became more substantial. Kilgharrah roared. A cylinder flew in through the window. It landed at her feet and began to hiss. Gas spewed from it. A thick nauseous cloud. She threw up her arm to cover her nose and mouth, but some clawed its way down her throat. Her head spun again.

Aatish drove his sword through her half-Summoned Beowolf. He howled. The doors burst open. At seeing the armour-clad figures, Weiss relaxed. Erashan had come to save her. It was only after a moment that she noticed their armour was different, and their rifles were trained on her.

A round slapped against her side. She stumbled backwards, her muscles twitching from the lightning Dust-laden bullet. Another drove into her sternum. Reflexively she gasped down a breath. The only available air was the gas. It pooled inside her lungs.

Electricity coursed through her body. Her Aura lost to the toxins and the pain. Her back thumped against the wall. It was the only way she could stay upright. She refused to go down. She was a Schnee.

And it didn't matter. Winter was a Schnee as well. She might already be dead. Every time Weiss coughed, she inhaled more of the gas that hung in the air. A round struck her stomach. Her abs twitched and danced uncontrollably. It was too much. She cried out in pain. The soldiers offered her no mercy. They fired again.

The last sight Weiss saw was the snow-white hair of her sister dyed red.

 


	20. Chapter 20

With extreme care Ruby poked her head over the summit of the hill. Her position wasn't ideal. The rising sun was right behind her, and she was very aware of the risk of being silhouetted against the terrain. Even so, her curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Her latest travels had taken her into the Vacuan wilderness. Rather than the jungles of the south, this time she found herself in the plains and savannahs of the north. She was so far isolated from civilization that she couldn't even begin to pick up a signal from one of the CCT booster relays.

It had almost broken her the first time she'd noticed. She'd realised it was coming of course—every time she'd pulled out her scroll the signal had been a little bit weaker—but, when it had disappeared entirely, she'd been alone.

Solitude had not been unknown to her over the past two years. On occasion it had even been sought after. But that was before she'd reconnected with the most important people in her life. The pain only became more acute with the awareness of the wound. She'd missed Yang terribly in the time they'd been separated, but it had only been a dull ache. Now that she'd talked to her sister again, heard her laugh, seen her smile, salt had been rubbed into the open laceration.

Still, the pain she was in now was far superior to the agony of ignorance. She knew Yang was ok, and the same went for her dad, Blake, and Qrow. They were safe in Vacuo, and in the palace no less. She didn't have to worry.

Any conversation with them had left her elated and satisfied. She loved them all, but theirs weren't the names her finger hovered over most in her scroll. That honour was reserved for Weiss. Sometimes she didn't even press the button. Other times she couldn't resist the urge.

When they talked Weiss was just… Weiss. Not the Ice Queen, but the girl she'd first encountered on the air dock at Beacon and later fallen hopelessly in love with. They didn't discuss politics or international business relations; instead Weiss only asked how her day had been, and listened in rapt attention as Ruby recalled everything that had happened to her in minute detail. Nothing seemed too inconsequential. Weiss just stared into her scroll with a distant smile on her face.

They might have broken up by every definition of the word, but Ruby didn't quite feel that way. She honestly didn't know what she felt. Her love for Weiss was undiminished, perhaps only increased since that wonderful night and morning back in Atlas. She loved Weiss, and in those calls she saw why. They couldn't be together at the moment, not while Weiss ruled, but she was changing. Ruby was sure of it. Or at least she hoped it. Hoped a future together might just be possible.

With the very last remnants of her signal, she'd sent Weiss a text telling her not to expect a call anytime soon. That had been over a week ago, but whether she'd received the message was anyone's guess. This deep into the Grimm-infested wilderness, there was nothing around for hundreds of miles or more. That was why the sight below had piqued her interest.

A camp had been established with a dozen or more tents in neat lines, all surrounded by primitive earthworks. By itself she might have been able to write it off as an expedition of prospectors or refugees. But there was no mistaking who the people milling around below her were.

They were soldiers. Plain and simple. Even without their identical uniforms and rifles she would have been able to tell. Their regimented body language was too distinctive, and that wasn't counting the five tracked infantry fighting vehicles.

They were a dead giveaway. Vale didn't use them—preferring the more advanced Atlesian Paladins for providing ground support to their infantry. The tanks were Vacuan, painted tan to blend into the desert.

Unless her math was a long way off, she was in Vacuo. They had every right to be here. They could have been on a training mission, or hunting down Grimm, but her gut told her otherwise. There was nothing around. From the way they'd come—and the way they were going—they could only have one destination. The Valesh border.

Something had happened. Something big. And something that she'd missed. Armed as heavily as they were—short of stumbling across a Goliath—the column below her wouldn't encounter any resistance capable of stopping them. If they were really heading to war, the small wooden palisades of the villages would prove no barrier.

It was suicide of course. Vacuo may have been able to fight Vale to a bloody standstill—even with the Tinmen—but they stood no chance against an Atlesian retaliation. Once again, Weiss would be forced to make a choice which cost lives. Either Weiss had to order her forces to repel the invaders, or allow them to do whatever they wished to the settlers on the border.

This at least was a decision where Ruby couldn't see an easy alternative. In the Atlesian civil war, a different one could have been made. Here, lives would be lost either way. She was sure that each death would weigh heavily on Weiss' shoulders no matter her decision. In moments like this, Ruby could only be glad that didn't bear the burden of such colossal responsibility. She could see how it had changed Weiss.

Even unsure of their motive for being here, the noble and honourable thing to do would be to walk down into the camp, ask them, and if their intentions were impure, stop them. That's what she would have done a couple of years ago. Or at least tried to do.

Now though, honour was dead. She might be able to take out that battalion, or they might overwhelm her, but it wouldn't make any difference. Not in the long run. If Vacuo was really moving to war, there would be scores of battalions just like this one.

She wasn't a hero. Heroes, true heroes, didn't exist anymore. Not like they once had. Knowing that she might be abandoning people to die, she ducked below the summit and crawled away. Shame found her. Deep burning shame, but it was shame tempered by self-preservation. She couldn't save everyone. It had taken her a long time to learn that, but learn it she had.

Her only issue was that the battalion was in her way. What she'd told Yang had been the truth. There was something out here. Something close. Something important enough that, on occasion, it even managed to upstage Weiss in her dreams.

She didn't know what she was chasing. It wasn't a story from her book, but she trusted her instincts. They told her she was on the right track. Whatever it was, it had to be important. Never before had she dreamed so vividly about an unresolved concept.

Dreams of Weiss—or, in the early days, nightmares—were always so real that she'd almost been able to touch her, hold her, kiss her. She'd always woken with a pulsing heart full of longing and regret. It was still the case, but at least now she'd been able to alleviate the feelings by calling.

Whatever she was pursuing was just as vivid. Not in what it was, but in the knowledge that she had to know. Had to find out. Often it would be Weiss telling her to go east, or to turn slightly north the next day. Listening to dreams was crazy. She knew that. It was enough to get her locked up. But at the same time they didn't feel quite like dreams. They were more than that. More tangible. More real.

With a battalion across her path and on the lookout, she'd have to be careful. Technically, now that Weiss had lifted the arrest warrant, she wasn't a criminal in Vacuo. But soldiers were unlikely to look favourably on anyone watching their movements. Especially if they were indeed headed towards Vale.

It would cost her time, but she'd have to head back into the forest she'd only just left. How the soldiers were going to get through it with their vehicles she didn't know—they might just be powerful enough to drive in a straight line. Resolved, but irritated, she crept back beneath the canopy. She hadn't gone far when voices drifted to her ears.

"How come I got stuck on water detail again?"

"Because we can afford for you to get eaten, but I have to watch your sorry ass to make sure it doesn't happen. Now keep your eyes open and get back to work."

"It wouldn't kill you to help."

"Probably not, but I'm pulling rank."

That at least removed the last bit of doubt from Ruby. They were Vacuan by their accents. She hadn't considered the small stream she'd camped by last night. Though any convoy that large would be well-provisioned, topping up their supplies was an opportunity that was too good to waste. Not that the soldiers sounded happy about being assigned the extra work.

They were bored and, as bored people were liable to do all over world, would likely talk. There was the potential to overhear some vital piece of information. She snuck closer, gently levering branches aside and sticking to the undergrowth until they came into sight.

One of the soldiers was standing up, a Vacuan rifle cradled in his arms. The other crouched next to some barrels, pumping water from the stream by hand. He'd removed his helmet and the exertion had left his brow sopping with sweat.

"Damnit," the soldier manning the pump swore. "The filter's clogged again."

The other soldier swore too. "If you actually used it properly this wouldn't keep happening. We're already going to get bollocked when we get back as it is."

"Well, if you did more than stand there the hose wouldn't be resting against the bed."

The pair of them continued to argue as they leant over the pump and began disassembling it. Ruby backed off. She doubted she'd hear anything of merit after all. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She froze instantly. Something was wrong. Without moving she scanned the area. The two arguing soldiers, the stream, the trees and flora, and a pair of glowing red eyes.

She wasn't the only one watching the soldiers. The Ursa crept closer, entirely silent despite its bulk. Distracted as they were, the soldiers weren't aware of it. Ruby was caught in a moment of indecision. She could shout a warning, let them know, but that would reveal her presence. The few seconds she spent thinking were ones the Grimm made good use of. It closed in until it was only a dozen feet or so away, and then it charged.

At heart she was hunter, and her heart only allowed her to do one thing. "Watch out!"

She darted through the undergrowth, branches snagging at her skin and clothes. The heads of the two soldiers snapped towards her. She ripped Crescent Rose from its magnetic harness. Their eyes widened as it uncoiled. Only when it was nearly upon them, the ground beneath them shaking as it let out a mighty roar, did one of the soldiers begin to turn towards the Ursa. Too late.

Too late for them. Not for her. The instant she was on solid footing she flared her Semblance. Time slowed. A wind ripped through the clearing that at one time would have been trailed by a red cloak. Her shoulder smashed into the kneeling soldier, knocking him from beneath the Ursa's descending claws. They slashed her instead. Her Aura held. She used the momentum to spin, Crescent Rose whistling through the air. The tempered steel bit deep into black flesh.

The Ursa roared again, this time in anguish. She ducked the attack that seemed to come ever so slowly and took the limb off at the elbow. Blood flew free. The Ursa's bulk crashed to the ground. She drew a line up its side. Ribs snapping one by one under her blade. Gruesome music filled the air. Ruby danced to it. Lived for it. Crescent Rose was hungry and only one thing could sate its appetite. Again and again it drank its fill until the Ursa ceased to twitch.

The world hit Ruby with a vengeance. It crashed into her as she stopped powering her Semblance, demanding to take back the balance of time she'd stolen from it. Her muscles ached with fatigue, but not badly. She powered through it.

The two soldiers had barely moved. The one she'd saved still sat on his backside. They were both staring at her with open mouths. Blood had sprayed across them. It was then that she realised it was likely only a few seconds had passed. She must have been a blur to their senses.

The soldier on the ground swore again, his eyes moving between her, the dripping scythe, and the parts of the Ursa that were scattered around the clearing. She held up her free hand palm forward. "Hi."

"Hi." The soldier responded weakly, half-waving at her. His close brush with death had left him in shock.

"Are either of you hurt?"

The superior checked himself and his friend. "No."

"Good." Ruby still didn't quite know how to approach this situation. They weren't exactly being friendly to her, and their gazes still rested on the scythe. They both jumped when she retracted it, snapping it to her belt—she'd have to clean it later. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're a huntress?"

"Yep." Not a licenced one, but they didn't need to know that.

"Well, thanks." The veteran hauled his partner to his feet. "We might have been in some trouble without you." Their rifles would likely have only angered the Ursa.

"No problem." It always felt great to help people. She'd done good here today. Probably. She did her best to forget where she thought the soldiers were heading and what they might do when they got there. The greys of the world suggested it might have been better to let the Ursa be.

The soldier looked her up and down. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

Ruby resisted the urge to ask the same question. "Just travelling."

"It's a nice area for it." His hand hooked into his belt. "You sound like you're from Vale right?"

She squinted at him, not liking the question. "Yeah…"

"Then the least we could do is to offer you some food. Why don't you come back to our camp?" It was said in a light tone, but his levity didn't reach his eyes.

Ruby wanted cry. She wanted to scream. Was nothing ever simple? Once again, all she'd tried to do was to help people. To live up to her hunter's vows. And what did she get for it? A single thank you and the suspicion that she was a Valesh spy. It was so unfair. She could have tried to talk her way out of it, but what was the point. They'd never believe her.

"There's another one!" She pointed into the undergrowth behind the two soldiers. Their heads snapped around. When they glanced back, they found only rose petals floating on the wind.

* * *

 

Ruby was close. She knew that much. Weiss had told her so—dream Weiss, not the real one whom she missed so much. Her travels had taken her deeper into Vacuo now. Not all the way to the desert, but the sun was getting more unbearable every day. It wasn't quite the same discomfort as the rainforest. There the humidity had been the real killer. Here it was the purely the heat which sapped her energy.

Still, at least she was able to find shelter in the copses of skinny trees that littered the arid grasslands. It was a surprise that no one had attempted to settle here, but then again the Grimm provided the answer to that quandary. She'd been able to avoid them, farmers would not.

It would have been nice to say that they were the only threat she'd encountered in the past few days, but she couldn't. Several times she'd passed over ground torn up by tracks and flattened by boots. Her guess had been right. It hadn't been a lone battalion on a training mission. Vacuo had mobilised its forces. War was coming.

Her only real option was to try and avoid it entirely. As a Valesh native, her patriotism cried out for her to defend her homeland. But in school they'd all been taught the futility of that way of thinking. People should only fight for what they believed in. She believed in the vows she'd made as hunter. What Ozpin had done was wrong. Perhaps she should have stood against him more overtly, but she knew that Vacuo wasn't thinking of good, only of gain.

The world wasn't black and white anymore. It had never really been. That had been a childish way of thinking. And in a world of shifting hues of grey, sometimes the best thing to do, the right thing, was nothing. She couldn't stop the war singlehandedly. She could only be there to pick up the pieces when it was over.

That is, after she'd found whatever had been captivating her sleeping mind. The terrain around him almost looked familiar. Sometimes she glimpsed the skyline and was struck by an intense feeling of déjà vu. As if she'd been here before. No matter how impossible, it was as if she'd been here before. But as more often proved to be the case, the impossible was only the improbable.

She recognised the seven hills that rose before her. The wide river that meandered its way alongside them. The large floodplain next to it. Ruby recognised the geographic features, but not the flora. It seemed wrong somehow. As if something else should have stood on and around those hills. She didn't know how she knew that. No amount of searching in her mind was able to recall even a single story about this place.

With the sun beating down, the cool water of the river called out to her. Still bodies of water in the wilderness were often best avoided, but flowing rivers like this were usually ok. Just as long as there weren't any aquatic Grimm living in it.

With that rather distressing thought in mind, she swirled her hand through the water. The instant cold was a drug that the rest of her mind couldn't say no to despite the danger. She shrugged her rucksack off and lowered it to the dusty ground before stripping off her clothes. At one time she might have been self-conscious about skinny-dipping, but it wasn't like anyone would just stumble across her.

Making sure to leave Crescent Rose right on the bank, she stepped into the river. The sides were steep enough that she was able to submerge herself up to her chest within a few steps. The water was a balm on her fatigued muscles. She was without a doubt in the best shape of her life, but trekking dozens of miles a day, carrying a rucksack containing all her possessions, and lugging her beloved weapon along would take its toll on anyone.

The current of the river was strong. Not so much near the banks, but as she neared the centre she had to swim against it. Not wanting to be separated from Crescent Rose, she returned to bank and just sat with her back against the earthy clay. Personal hygiene was difficult to satisfy while travelling. She tried. Whenever she found water that wasn't stagnant, she bathed. But, more often than not, she couldn't go out of her way to find a big enough pond or stream. Most of the time she had to make do with just a cloth, and when she couldn't find a water source, not even that. Very rare was the occasion when she could just sit like this.

The river must have had a name. In fact it had probably had many different names over the ages. Each group of settlers or travellers inventing their own. What would she call it, if she had the power? She might actually. Who decided when the ancient name of a long forgotten river was no longer relevant? There must have been someone in a cobweb-filled room somewhere. Maybe her name would stick. So what should it be? The word on the tip of her tongue didn't make any sense to her, but it seemed so right. The River Tiberius.

Reaching back to her pack, she pulled out a bundle of leaves she'd picked a couple of days before. Natural free herbs were so much more convenient than carrying around a bottle filled with chemicals. With a smile, she had to admit to herself she might have turned into a bit of hippy. She washed herself thoroughly, scraping away days of accumulated dirt from her skin and leaving it red but, more importantly, clean. She crawled out onto the bank and sat nude beneath the sun.

The half an hour she taken to pamper herself was one that had been well spent. By the time she was dry and clothed again, she was ready to meet whatever challenges the day would bring. What they would be, she didn't know. She no longer had the subconscious urge to keep moving forwards. It was as if she'd arrived at her destination.

The river. These hills that tugged at her impossible memory. They were important, and she pledged to find out why. The nearer she got to the base of the first hill, the more excited she became. It was a natural formation, but it was a natural formation tempered by the hand of man. The steps carved into it were long eroded—judging by the weathering this might have been the oldest settlement she'd come across—but the stone had definitely been placed and carved. Bending down, she was even able to see some of the individual tool marks.

That was where she ran into a problem. She hadn't expected to discover anything that required careful documentation. The numerous calls she'd made had drained the battery on her scroll and most of the spares. Very aware of the limit, she only took a few quick photos before sliding it back into her pack.

They might have been worn and barely distinguishable as steps, but they still bore her weight. She climbed up them. From her new height she began to notice patterns in the ground that had been indistinguishable from the same level. They were too straight to be natural. They could only be the remnants of what had once been foundations. The city had been large, and it was almost entirely gone. That was either a sign of some form of destruction or extreme age. At the moment, her money lay straight in the middle.

It wasn't the most exciting piece of archaeology she'd ever done. Short of a few stones sticking from the ground, there really wasn't that much to it. Every time before she'd at least been able to go in a few ruined buildings. Here there was just nothing. Perhaps the city had been attacked by Grimm and a fire had run rampant through it? That might have explained it if the people who had lived here had been carpenters, but the steps alone were evidence that they'd worked with stone. What else could remove rock so completely? A natural disaster maybe. A huge one. Or an invading army had quite literally razed the entire city to the ground. What crime could have warranted that she didn't know.

She found the first groupings of cut stone that could be described as a building. They were partially covered with dirt and whatever plants had managed to push their way through the gaps, but they were foundations. The building had been large, and judging by the circular cylinders broken off half a foot above the ground there had been pillars holding up the roof. The civilization had had a definite understanding of physics and architecture.

Ruby leant down, tracing the rough stone with her fingertips. The sensation was almost hypnotic. She fought back a yawn. She hadn't slept much that previous night, and the half an hour spent sitting in the warm sun after her swim had left her drowsy. Absentmindedly, she hummed a simple tune. It resonated within her, seeming to come from everywhere. The overgrown grass was a comfortable mattress.

She was tired, so tired. In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to drift off to sleep. She did so, pillowing her head on her arms. For once she didn't dream. Weiss didn't find her. She rested uninterrupted and woke to a bright morning.

When she opened her eyes, the city was filled with people.

 


	21. Chapter 21

The scream of a Nevermore snapped Blake back to her senses following the shock of teleportation. The giant bird was silhouetted against the sun as it plummeted towards the mass of intruders.

Blake attempted to move, to unclip Gambol Shroud from her back, but they were all pressed too tightly together. She could barely raise her arms from her side. Some of those on the outer edge started to scatter, but she was a sitting duck. She poured power into her Semblance.

Noise and heat washed over her. A blur streaked skyward, trailing flames in its wake. A heartbeat later the missile exploded into a cloud of shrapnel. The high velocity chunks of metal tore into the Nevermore, shredding its wings and burrowing into its flesh. The bird didn't even have time to scream. Its corpse plummeted downwards and disappeared into the murky water of the ocean.

"Don't just stand there!" One of the sergeants of the Vacuan troops shouted. "Get in position!"

The steady voice of an authority figure broke any final vestiges of shock. The soldiers moved in to their preordained formation, their weapons pointing outwards. Though technically in the same command structure, the hunters had more free rein. They were to act as a floating force, reinforce the defensive lines wherever there was the danger of a breach, and range out beyond them when necessary.

With a quick glance Blake took in her surroundings. They were on a flat shelf of basalt. There were no trees near enough to hide Grimm, but none to provide them cover from the air either. Waves crashed down on the short beach a few hundred yards in front of her. As long as they didn't venture too close, they should be safe from that direction.

The forest behind her was unlike any she'd seen before. The coastal gales had stripped the trees of all but their smallest spines. The trunks were as black as the rest of the island. It looked like a fire had ripped through it and it had yet to recover. As forests went, it was the most menacing one that Blake had ever encountered.

Unease hung heavy in the air. It clawed its way inside her and sat in her stomach. There was just something wrong. Some sense that they shouldn't be here. That they were intruders who would only be made to pay.

It wasn't just her feeling that way either. The soldiers were twitchy, their rifles jumping at every errant sound. Yang had Ember Celica deployed and ready, but her lower lip was caught in her teeth, an unconscious display of her nerves. Qrow was white, his hand clenched tightly around the hilt of his sword. He'd warned them all about Menagerie, and they weren't even on the island proper yet.

They were tasked with securing a safe area before the reinforcements arrived. In that sense it was lucky—or perhaps more likely planned—that Juno had deposited them on this small island off the coast. They wouldn't have to deal with the undoubted hordes of Grimm that roamed Menagerie; instead, only whichever ones lived here or had the power of flight.

The anti-air missile may have killed the Nevermore before it got close to them, but it hadn't been quiet. In the far distance, specks rose from their roosts on Menagerie. They soared on the updrafts in the air, their distant cries audible over the roar of the sea. They were angry.

The missile launchers automatically tracked any that ventured too close. They would take a terrible toll on the airborne Grimm but, as always, a battle against the Grimm was one of attrition. And it was one they would inevitably lose. They didn't have remotely close to enough missiles. After that, they would have to fight them the old-fashioned way.

Gunfire erupted from behind her. She spun around, ripping Gambol Shroud from its sheath. A swarm of Creeps thundered from the forest, charging straight towards them over the flat ground. The thick armour sheltering their heads served them well against the rounds from the rifles, but it proved poor protection against the Janissaries. Where the Grimm were targeted by the huge rounds of the mechs, they fell torn and broken to the ground.

Faced with overwhelming firepower, any sensible force would have withdrawn to lick their wounds. The Grimm weren't sensible though. For perhaps the first time in their lives, they were experiencing hate. The hate that had made their kind hound society to the brink of extinction throughout history. Their primal instincts cried out at them to rend, to kill, and they attempted to do just that.

The Creeps charged across the killing fields in their peculiar gait, leaving their fallen brethren behind. Though the guns of the mechs caused great casualties, they weren't enough. The lead Creep bowled over the nearest soldier, and leapt on top of his form with jaws snapping down.

A bang louder than any so far smashed into Blake's eardrums and rattled the organs in her chest. A great cloud of acrid smoke engulfed her. She coughed, her eyes burning, and blindly pushed her way out of it. That's when she saw Port finish reloading.

He levelled his blunderbuss and pulled the trigger. There was another bang and another plume of smoke, but this time she was able to see the effect. Her observations only confirmed what some of his students had said about him. Port was mad. She'd always assumed the blunderbuss hanging on the wall in his classroom had been merely aesthetically superficial, that inside it would be as advanced as any modern firearm.

It wasn't. Port had merely poured raw Dust powder into the barrel and added a couple of other pouches. She wouldn't be surprised if they contained bent nails and shards of stone. The result had been a cone of fire, steam, lightning, and who knew what else. The Creep caught in the blast's epicentre twitched a dozen feet away, its flesh melted and boiled. Port laughed as Grimm bore down on him in the middle of wind-scorched island, he actually laughed.

"Gods I've missed this." He shook his weapon in the air. "Come on! Move yourselves!"

Yep. Port was definitely insane, but quite right. Blake used her Semblance to appear in front of a Grimm. She diverted its momentum to the side with Gambol Shroud, before thrusting her blade into a gap between its armoured plates. It came out red, but the Creep didn't stay down.

The ones on this island were larger than any she'd ever seen before. Even the smallest were the size of a pack leader back in Vale. It shouldn't have been possible. Out here on a small island, in the middle of the ocean, there couldn't have been much wildlife or food; the Grimm definitely wouldn't have been able to feed on their preferred prey of people. They should have starved, or at least had their growth stunted. Instead they were thriving.

The Creep shrugged off what should have been a mortal wound and charged straight back at her. Blake dove out the way, rolling on her shoulder, her sheath scraping uselessly along bone. The Creep roared at her, exposing its maw and fangs. A Grimm on the mainland would have known better; it would have had an understanding of ranged weaponry. In a flash, Blake transformed Gambol Shroud and emptied her magazine.

The Grimm staggered, blood pouring from its mouth. A pair of huge fists delivered a hammer blow to its back. The Creep's spine snapped under the spiked metal gauntlets. Blake offered a nod of thanks to Taiyang, before turning back to the battle.

Their defensive line had entirely collapsed under the swarm, morphing into dozens of running skirmishes. Where they could, the hunters assisted their less-able comrades, trying to give the soldiers the space to use their rifles.

Qrow was barely more than a blur, Murder fully deployed and being wielded with almost unmatched skill. For a moment, Blake's heart leapt at the belief Ruby was fighting alongside them once more. They were so similar in their styles; it was easy to see who'd trained her.

Oobleck darted around. He wasn't concentrating on killing the Creeps, but instead batting them away to buy time for everyone to regroup. SSSN fought as a single unit, instantly recalling the time they'd spent together at school. The mechs used their weight, stamping down where they could, striking out with the swords built into their arms if they couldn't.

A pillar of light, barely wider than a fist, formed in the midst of the largest group of Creeps closing in on them. A whine emanated from it. A whine that got steadily louder and more high-pitched. It reached a crescendo. Blake threw an arm up to shield her eyes while covering her ears. Few others recognised what was about to happen.

Light stabbed around her arm, a shockwave slammed into her, and a thirty foot circle of basalt was turned molten. There was no sign of the Grim that had been inside. The explosion brought a moment of silence to the battlefield, both man and beast stunned by the sheer ferocity. More whining filled the air.

Blake let out a triumphant laugh. Velvet had joined the fray. They had been right to invite their friend. In the past two years she'd done little other than study Dustcraft. It might have been impossible, but Velvet had just become scarier.

With their reinforcements being annihilated before they got remotely close, the Grimm were easier to handle. Some of the soldiers had set up heavier machine guns; they concentrated on the few Creeps that managed to run the gauntlet of erupting elements.

Dispatching her latest with the help of Yang, Blake took a momentary breather and attempted to gauge the progress of the battle. It was going well. The vast majority of the bodies on the ground were black, and most of those in uniform were still moving.

A triplet of missiles shot skywards. Blake didn't want to follow their progress. She did anyway. The flock of Nevermores and Griffons that had been gathering since they'd arrived had decided their numbers were enough. The missiles blossomed, and a few Grimm fell from the sky. But it was only a few. The rest dived towards them.

Blake gritted her teeth, ignoring the acid in her muscles. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

 

Blake glanced behind her just in time to see two dozen people appear out of the dawn air. That was still weird. No matter how many times she'd seen it, she couldn't help but think there should be smoke, or light, or just… something. Something that would help her mind comprehend how there could be nothing there one instant, and then something there the next. That's how it was in books. But it appeared Juno didn't take much inspiration from fiction. Or actually, considering her age, fiction didn't take much inspiration from her.

There was that same expression of shock on the faces of the newcomers, just as she was sure had been on hers the first time she'd been teleported. They looked around, awed at the new sights. Though what they could see was very different from what she'd found over a week ago.

As mankind did everywhere it went, they'd made some changes. She was currently off-duty, lounging against one of the thick rock walls that bordered their compound. It turned out that if Velvet ever got tired of being a huntress, being an instant architect was right up her alley.

Her creation wasn't quite a fortress, but it had come close, and more importantly it had come quickly. It had only taken her—and a couple of other hunters who could help—a few short hours to provide them with defences against the near-constant Grimm attacks.

Back when they were evacuating Vale, Velvet had shown that she could quickly build a simple wall from Earth Dust. But that paled in comparison to what she could do with some time to prepare. 'The Bunny Bastion' as one of the soldiers had called it—and much to Velvet's embarrassment the name had stuck—had four walls that were a dozen feet high and wide enough to walk on, a small barracks to take shelter from the elements, and even a watchtower in one corner. It might not have been a fortress, but it would have put many ancient lords to shame.

It had been needed. The Grimm had been close to incessant in their ferocity, attacking time and time again. The walls and pits in the killing fields proved sufficient to allow the soldiers to make use of their firepower without being threatened. Still, by the carpet of black corpses that surrounded them, they must have come close to wiping out every Grimm on the island.

Securing a foothold here was meant to have been the easier task. Menagerie still loomed over them, and no one had any misconceptions regarding just how difficult was going to be to force their way onto it. Already there were Grimm on the beaches, just waiting for them.

Without a doubt, Blake knew it would be the hardest fight of her life. They would have to carve their way, inch by inch, through an uncountable mass of beasts, to the centre of the island where the thousand spires rose. Even under black clouds and shrouded in mists the formation was incredible.

The name might have been poetic; there might not have been a thousand thin spires spearing into the clouds, but there were hundreds. They were impossibly thin. They should have collapsed under their own weight, or been toppled by the storms that raged, still they remained. Geology wasn't her strongest subject, and she simply didn't know what natural process could have caused something like that. To be fair, from her research, neither did anyone else. The Grimm weren't exactly going to allow a scientific expedition to find out.

Even the force they'd brought would struggle. That was why every new arrival of reinforcements was treated with great cheer. They must have numbered several hundred now, and the supplies they'd so diminished had been replaced. Not everyone had arrived yet; apparently even Juno had limits, and only one or two long range teleports were the most she could make in a day. Despite leaving her vulnerable, Blake found it comforting. Juno, Cinder, Ozpin, and the rest might have been fantastically powerful, but they weren't all-powerful.

Still, this arrival of reinforcements was different, and Yang had looked up from her porridge long enough to notice too. "What the hell is that?"

"Umm…" Blake wasn't sure. In the middle of the additional troops sat a tracked vehicle approximately the size of a truck. It was military in origin, but it had no visible weapons. "A missile launcher?"

"Maybe?" Yang sounded sceptical. Blake didn't blame her. If was really a launcher then the missiles would be several stories in length. "Hey, Emerald!" Yang shouted, waving her arm in the air.

She might have been two dozen feet away, but it was still possible to see her roll her eyes as she realised who had called her name. She and Yang still really didn't get along, and neither was an innocent party in their mutual animosity. For a moment Emerald considered just ignoring them, but eventually she resolved herself to walking over.

"What?" She did not sound happy.

"Nice of you to join us. Don't worry, you missed all the fighting." Yang couldn't help but take the opportunity to antagonise her.

"Some of us rate slightly higher than grunt work."

"Ha!" Yang laughed. "You know what Emmy? You're such a joker." Emerald's brow furrowed in an attempt to stay in control. "We both know you would have lasted about three minutes before someone had to rescue you. Instead, you conveniently arrived too late. Again. At least you bothered to get changed this time. I bet you wouldn't have if Cindy was here."

The attacks against her may have annoyed Emerald, but mentioning Cinder was a sure way to make her boil over. Yang knew this, of course. Blake decided to intervene before the pair of them tried to kill each other.

"Yang." Blake laid a warning hand on her shoulder.

"What? We're just having fun. Aren't we Emmy?"

"Not yet. Why don't you put your pathetic little gauntlets where your mouth is? Then we can see who'd have to rescue who?"

"Bitch!" Yang jumped to her feet. There were few things that Yang revered more than Ember Celica: Ruby definitely, her dad, the rest of her family, and her girlfriend—though that was probably a maybe. "Let's go!"

Blake put herself between them. "Let's not. As much as everyone here would like some entertainment, I don't think you two beating the crap out of each other is a particularly good idea."

"It sounds good to me." Yang clenched her fists.

"Me too."

Blake held them both out at arm's length. "Well unless you want to hit me you're not going to. Yang, apologise."

"Fuck no."

"Yang!" Blake turned her back on Emerald, facing her girlfriend completely and staring into eyes that were tinged with red.

"She started it."

"Really? Are you twelve? We're on the same side." It wasn't much of an argument, but it was all she had. "Just say you're sorry. Please."

Yang almost refused, almost released some of the malevolent energy that had seeped into her from the very air of the island. Almost, but she didn't. There was enough in Blake's tone to temper her irritation. "Sorry." It was barely audible, but Blake knew it was all she'd get.

Emerald laughed. "I guess we all know who wears the pants in your relationship."

Blake rounded on her, the waft of heat from behind telling her just what Yang wanted to do at the moment. "Grow up. Unless you want me to tell Cinder why the two of you were fighting and jeopardising the mission."

The threat was enough. Emerald glared at her. "Fine. Did you actually want me for something? Or did you just call me over to piss me off?"

"Actually, we were wondering what's in there?" Blake pointed at the truck.

Emerald's glare morphed into a broad smirk. "You mean you don't know?"

"No," Yang said. "That's why we were asking. That's how it usually works."

After weeks of feeling threatened by Yang's appearance, Emerald finally had something over them, and she wasn't going to give it up quickly.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I should tell you. If you don't know, it's probably because it's above your pay grade."

"We're not getting paid. You're not either."

"Yes I am." Emerald revelled that Yang had just revealed another weakness. Blake could only wish they were getting paid. Sure Cinder might have given them some cash if they asked, but there definitely hadn't been a direct deposit to their accounts. "That's just tragic. I'm really not sure I should tell you then."

"Emerald… please." Blake gritted her teeth. She was starting to think Yang's idea of throttling her wasn't such a bad one. They could do it together. Make it a nice bonding session.

Emerald made a big show of deciding, stroking her chin with her fingers and pursing her lips. Blake was about a heartbeat from just walking away when Emerald opened her mouth. She recognised that they would just go and ask someone else and she would miss out on the satisfaction of the reveal.

"It's a bomb."

"A bomb?" Blake glanced at the truck. It was massive. Surely Emerald had meant  _bombs_ , plural.

"Just one?" Yang had clearly had the same thought.

"Yes. King Badr has most graciously donated his stockpile of White Dust."

King Badr again. Blake had seen him from a distance a couple of times while staying in the palace. By all accounts he was a strong leader, but for some reason he had thrown his full weight behind this expedition. Scores of troops, military hardware, and now White Dust. He either believed in their cause entirely, or Cinder had him wrapped around her little finger. After knowing her a little while and seeing the state Emerald was in, Blake was willing to bet on the latter.

Still, White Dust was nothing to be trifled with. Unlike Yang, she'd paid attention in Dustcraft class, but they hadn't covered White Dust—that was final year material. All she knew was that it was expensive in the same ways countries were, and it really wasn't to be trifled with. There were stories of fantastical weapons built towards the end of the Great War but never tested. Weiss would probably know if there was any truth to them. And maybe Velvet would be able to tell her what a bomb made of White Dust would do. Blake made a mental note to ask her.

"What's it for?"

Emerald hesitated.

"You don't know do you?" Yang said with a laugh.

"Well… technically not," Emerald half-admitted. "But that's only because no one does. She hasn't told anyone."

"What's your best guess then?" Blake asked. She wasn't surprised Cinder was acting on a need to know basis. She didn't seem to do anything else.

"When it goes up, it's going to go up big. If for some reason we can't get what Cinder wants, then she's probably going to make sure no one can."

That made sense. Whatever Cinder wanted—of course she hadn't told them—was important enough to arrange this entire expedition. By that logic, it was important enough to ensure no one else got their hands on it either.

"You're probably right." Blake decided to offer an olive branch. They would be relying on each other soon enough. "Thanks Emerald."

It wasn't graciously accepted, but Blake got the sense that it was accepted. The slight sneer was likely for nothing more than appearances. "Right. Did you want anything else or can I get back to work?"

"Work?"

"Of course. I need to get everyone ready."

"Ready for what?"

"What I hope you've all been preparing for. You have a couple of hours. The moment the next wave arrives, we're beginning our assault."

 


	22. Chapter 22

Weiss started awake as the observation grate on the cell door was slammed open. The metal clang echoed horrifically in the small room. A small cry escaped unbidden from her lips. The light streaming into the room and burning her eyes dimmed as someone looked in on her. Their features were hidden, but it wouldn't have mattered. No one had paid the slightest heed to her threats or, later, her propositions with promise of great rewards.

She hadn't begged. She wouldn't. No matter how many days or weeks they kept her in this cell. She honestly didn't know how much time had passed since her capture. The room was kept close to pitch black with the only light coming in through the small crack under the door. Sometimes they even blocked that up. There were no windows. No rising sun or moon. No way to gauge the passing of time. It was just her and her thoughts. That was the worst part.

The guard slid the grate closed and, even though she knew it was coming, she still flinched. The noise was far louder than it should have been. It stabbed into her ears. It wasn't just the sound though, it was what it represented. It was an audible metaphor of her bondage. She might have been the ruler of Atlas but, at this moment, she was nothing more than a prisoner.

In the darkness that followed the painful light, Weiss pushed herself into a sitting position against the cold stone wall. It leeched what little heat her body had from her back, but so did the floor. She'd forgotten what it was like to be warm.

Her thin dirty blanket only succeeded in scratching her skin. Still, it was better than nothing. The chains attaching her wrists and ankles to the wall clinked as she tried to pull it over her legs. It was so hard. The sheer weight of the oversized links sapped her energy, and made her body ache whenever she attempted to move. Most of the time she couldn't find the will to bother. Alone they would have been bad enough, but the manacles didn't satisfy her captors. She was a huntress after all.

Her hands were bound into fists by tight leather mitts. Her fingers trapped in her palms. She couldn't move them at all. Even the simple action of covering herself with a blanket was a struggle. Not being able to grip it, the material slipped between the smooth surfaces of the gloves and reduced her to the state of an invalid.

She could barely do anything. On the rare times her jailors remembered to feed her, she ate like an animal. Cutlery would have been denied her regardless, but with her hands she would at least have been able to pour the disgusting gruel into her mouth. Instead, she'd been forced to dip her face into the bowl and lap it up with her tongue.

The first time she'd seen what was meant to pass for her meal she'd flat out refused to even touch it, insistent that it wasn't fit for human consumption. The guard had ignored her complaints and just taken it away. Eventually the panging pains of hunger had eroded her resolve. She'd thrown herself at the bowl, dipping her face in it, not caring that the smell and taste made her want to throw up. The guard had laughed at her then, calling her an 'An Atlesian bitch. A Dog.' The insult had stung, but it had been true. It had only taken her days—or weeks?—to lose the dignity of a noble she'd once thought ingrained into her very being.

The simple loss of function caused by the mitts might have lowered her morale, but that wasn't their primary function. She couldn't move her fingers at all and, by extension, couldn't make use of her Semblance.

All her training up to this point had been a mistake. She knew that now. She almost screamed with the knowledge of it. Her impotency was self-imposed. By using her fingers she was able to achieve an almost unprecedented degree of control over her glyphs, but all the intricate gestures were her undoing.

Upon awaking in the dark, she'd been confused. Her memories of what had occurred had been blurred by the drugs. It was only when she'd tried to move and the heavy chains had stopped her did she remember. Remember what they'd done to her, done to Winter. There hadn't been fear in that moment. Only rage. Rage so intense that whole of Vacuo would have borne the brunt of it.

Her first task was to break her bonds and escape the cell. It should have been easy. She twisted her fingers to Summon Kilgharrah only to find them immobile. She'd tried for hours that first day, straining her Aura, pouring it into her Semblance until her body was fit to burst and her head spun. But the power had nowhere to go. Without her fingers, Kilgharrah remained trapped in whatever realm he resided in. Much as she was trapped in the cell.

The hopelessness of her situation was crushing her. She was the richest person in the world. The most powerful. She had mega-corporations and armies at her whim. With a word she could set events into motion that affected every person on the planet. And yet, despite all of that, she was still chained to a wall in the dark and the cold.

She'd almost given up, almost started crying, but something had stopped her. They could take her power. They could even take her dignity—from stripping her while she was unconscious and putting her in a jumpsuit, to forcing her to eat like an animal. But they couldn't take her will. Not unless she let them. She was still a Schnee and, no matter what happened, that would never change.

It was the concept she clung to. Not always successfully. On occasion she had cried. But when the tears stopped flowing, she'd wiped her eyes as much as she was able, and swore it wouldn't happen again.

If it was just the personal degradation and physical discomfort, she could have coped. But it wasn't. In the heavy silence, she strained her ears for news of Winter. In a strange way, it hurt more to picture her in the same situation. Her normally resplendent appearance ruined by a jump suit. Her hair in disarray. She wondered how Winter was coping? Whether she'd given up yet? Weiss was at least sure that she was alive. They were both far more valuable that way.

She wasn't so sure about the rest of her retinue. By now she would have expected them to have rescued her. To have killed the guards outside and broken down the door. To have unlocked the chains from her arms and carried her away. It was what she'd hoped for over so many long hours, and fully expected. Her security detail had been the best. She knew of only one way they would have been stopped, and the guilt weighted heavily upon her.

She'd brought them into this situation, and she'd been far too stupid to see just how dangerous it was. Their deaths were on her conscience. Erashan's death. He'd been a part of her life for so long. Growing up, he'd been the closest things she'd had to a friend. He'd been the first person since her mother to take an actual, real interest in her development. No matter what, he'd always been there for her. Until now. She didn't know how she was going to break the news to Lobelia that their child was going to grow up without a father.

It was all her fault. All of it. She should have seen. Should have known. She thought she'd been playing everyone, winning, when in fact the reverse had been true. The entire scheme had probably been organised with the sole purpose of getting her in this cell. She didn't know what that purpose was, what Aatish and Badr thought to accomplish. They'd signed their own death warrants.

The world knew where she'd been. Her arrival and presence had been televised. Those left in charge in Atlas knew where she'd been. For an attack under the cover of diplomacy, there would be only one response. Vacuo could not stand before Atlas' might. Even now, the forces deployed in Vale were likely moving towards the border. Civilians were being drafted. Dreadnoughts taking off. The full force of the most powerful country on the planet would be brought to bear, and would bring her attackers to their knees.

Atlas' reprisal was sure to be terrible, but it couldn't help her. At best she would be a pawn, her fate decided by others. For her entire life she'd been at the whims of others: her father, Winter, her tutors. Only in the past two years had she discovered what real power was like. It hadn't come with freedom, not with all the responsibility, but at least she'd been able to dictate the direction of her future. Now she couldn't.

Now, she was utterly powerless once more. Tears were beneath her bloodline. She wouldn't cry. Chained, hungry, and shivering beneath a thin blanket in a cold, dark room, Weiss had to admit to herself once more that she'd never been a very good Schnee.

* * *

 

Weiss was awake the next time she heard the guard return. Despite how disgusting and degrading it was, she hoped he'd brought her another meal. They weren't feeding her enough. The bowls themselves were tiny, the gruel watery. If she was lucky enough to have bread, it was hard enough that she could barely bite down into it. There was logic behind their cruelty. The malnourishment had left her limbs weak and her Aura depleted. She wouldn't be putting up much of a fight even without her chains.

The observation grate clanged open as the guard looked in. What was the point? It wasn't as if she could have gone anywhere. Despite the pain in her eyes from the light, she stared straight back at the silhouette. Another bang echoed around the room as her door opened.

This time Weiss did have to raise an arm to shield her gaze. The fluorescent bulbs in the corridor were blinding. Through watering eyes she couldn't make out the features of the prison guard, but she could see that he wasn't carrying a tray. Her cracked throat was almost enough to make her beg for a drink.

The guard's heavy boots thumped on the concrete floor and he came to a stop looming over her. Weiss pushed herself into more of sitting position. She would have risen, tried to face him down, but she'd learned the hard way that the effort wasn't appreciated.

"Present." His tone was harsh and Weiss knew his voice. She looked beyond him, hoping to see another jailor. There was none. They were alone.

Biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from making a noise, she did as ordered, pushing her blanket off herself and presenting her limbs. The guard obviously didn't find her actions fast enough. He grabbed a handful of the chains coiled on the floor and heaved. Her body was hauled out from under her and she saw stars as her head snapped into the wall.

"Now see what you made me do." His fingers dug into her forearm as he checked her gloves and manacles for any sign of tampering. She offered up her other arm without a fight. "Good girl." He checked her ankles, but when he was done he didn't removed his hands from her legs, instead they slid higher. "So, have you changed your mind about having a little company?" His lips twisted into a leer as he copped a feel of her legs through her jumpsuit.

Weiss tasted copper. On the first morning, back when she'd been less compliant, it had been him and another guard. He'd suggested to his friend that he knew just the tool to bring her into check, and he hadn't been subtle about his insinuation. Thankfully the other guard had stopped him that time. But each time he was alone with her, he became a little more confident.

As much as she wanted to lash out, to kick him in his face and knock out his disgusting teeth, she couldn't. If she knew anything about human behaviour and animals like him, struggling would only encourage him. Bound and weak, he would be able to overpower her easily. Instead she stayed still, her limbs lifeless, spiders crawling all over her skin, doing nothing other than shaking her head.

"Bitch!" He backhanded her. Weiss collapsed to the side, her vision swimming. It was a sign of how far she'd fallen that even a weak blow like that got through her Aura. He might have hit her, but he did back off. The cool logical part of her mind guessed that he'd been given express orders not to rape her; the terrified part thought one day he would anyway.

"You still think you're so high and mighty, even when you're shitting in a bucket." He reached towards it. "God, it reeks."

A small sob managed to escape her lips. It really did. Having to use a metal bucket as a toilet was by far the most degrading experience of her life. It was a struggle to even open the flap on the back of her jumpsuit, and when she was done there was no way she could wipe. She felt utterly filthy, and no doubt she stank as much as the open bucket. The only saving grace was that, due to the lack of food and drink, she didn't need to use it often, but what came out flooded the cell with nauseous fumes.

The guard picked it up, the foul mixture within sloshing. He held it above her head and tilted it. She scrambled away, as far as her chains would allow. It wasn't enough. He laughed. "The next time you say no to me you'll be drinking this." The mere thought was enough to make her gag. "Remember that." With one last threatening tilt he left, the bang of the door echoing around the room.

Weiss struggled to pull the blanket over her body, covering herself, hoping beyond hope that the thin material would provide her some protection. It wouldn't. She could only pray that it had been a baseless threat from a sadistic mind. That he wouldn't actually force her to make the choice. She didn't know what she would pick.

In the wake of the guard's exit she honestly considered trying to end it all. Again. It would be easier. It would stop the humiliation and the possibility of more pain to come. She'd already worked out a way. The eyebolt that secured her to the wall was a foot off the ground. She could wrap a chain around her neck and just lie down. It would be like going to sleep, and then she'd be safe.

It had surprised her the first time that the thought had surfaced. Even throughout her abusive childhood she'd never fallen so low. But she'd never been in a situation like this. Treated worse than an animal, knowing she'd led her troops to their deaths, failed her sister, and failed the people of Atlas who were relying on her. The darkness that had always been inside of her, that was inside of everyone, swelled.

There was very little that stopping her in the end. Just the certainty that she was better than that. That no matter how bad it was at the moment, she couldn't give in. If she gave in, it meant she was giving Winter permission to as well. She refused. Just as she refused to contemplate the idea that she might never see Ruby again. Never talk to her. Never hear her laugh, or kiss her lips. If the world still had a shining beacon that gave her the strength to hang on, Ruby was her light in the darkness.

Footsteps returned outside. Weiss hugged her blanket to herself. She didn't want to give the guard the satisfaction of knowing she was scared, but she couldn't help it. Down here false courage only got her so far.

The screech of metal assaulted her ears at the same time light attacked her eyes that had only just re-adjusted to the gloom. Weiss looked around her arm. The silhouette did not belong to the guard, though it did seem familiar. When her mind connected the dots fury surged into her blood. She managed to clamp down on it just, but not her tongue.

"You treacherous snake!"

The slap of King Badr's slippers paused. Weiss forced herself to her feet; the jangle of chains precluding any conversation. She wouldn't talk to him from the floor. The disparity in their appearances only made her angrier. In their last conversation, she'd been wearing a hand-tailored suit. Now she was in the filth-covered clothes of a prisoner, whereas his embroidered robe wouldn't have looked out of place at a coronation.

With her pupils contracting, she was able to make out his face. His nose wrinkled in aristocratic disgust. It was a good thing she was restrained in place, otherwise she didn't know what she would have done. The stink in the room was all his fault, but at least he didn't have to live in it. She did.

"Weiss… I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Her fingers fought against her gloves. It would be worth dying to see Kilgharrah rip his lying tongue from his lying mouth.

"Bullshit!" It was uncouth and undiplomatic—a reply Yang would have been proud of—but what did propriety matter anymore?

Making a clear effort not to breathe through his nose, Badr walked further into the room, coming to a stop just beyond the limit of Weiss' chains. "I know how this must look—"

"It looks like you've assaulted me in breach of all diplomatic conventions, imprisoned me, and treated me worse than an animal."

He held up his hands in a placating manner. "I'm sorry. I truly am." His eyes took in the extent of her world at the moment. "I didn't know. This was the first time I've been allowed down here."

"Don't play that card. This is your palace."

Badr nodded, a shadow passing across his face. "It is. But I told you the desert winds are strong. I might be the figurehead, but I have no real power."

"And you expect me to believe that? What kind of ruler are you?"

"A poor one. When I took the throne, I wasn't much interested in ruling. I was happy to allow others to do the boring work while I sated my selfish desires. When the time came that I wanted to do some good for those I ruled, I found that I couldn't. All my power had been eroded. All the guards that surrounded me were picked from my satraps' barracks. They didn't follow my orders. I am as much a prisoner in my palace as you are."

"Really?" She punctuated her word with the clink of her chains.

Badr smiled slightly. "Maybe not. Again, I can only apologise, but the sentiment stays the same."

Weiss' jaw jutted. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It had to be lies. Every political report that had ever come out of Vacuo listed Badr right at the top of the pyramid. There was no way the satraps could have fooled everyone for so long. Fooled her for so long.

"You expect me to believe this? You have an army here. Alfurat is the economic centre of Vacuo. You expect me to believe that you couldn't reclaim power if you wanted it? You can strip nobles of their titles!"

"Don't you think I've tried?" It was a rare, frustrated outburst from the normally controlled king. "That army you mentioned is controlled by men put into place by the people I would order them against. They would laugh in my face while having me escorted back to my chambers. You're right. Alfurat is the economic centre, but it has no natural resources. Everything has to come from somewhere else, and I don't need to tell you where. If I tried anything, the satraps could simply stop all exports to the city and blockade the tracks that bring your Dust. Alfurat would be in chaos within days. I would probably be dragged into the streets and beheaded. They know that as well as I."

Some of his lies were tainted by fact. There was an old saying, 'Society is only three missed meals away from anarchy'. It had been proven true time and time again. The majority of Alfurat's industry did rely on imports from the surrounding territories, but she still couldn't bring herself to believe him. She couldn't afford to believe him.

"If you knew this was going to happen, why didn't you tell me?" If he had, she wouldn't be standing covered in her own filth.

"I didn't know. I only suspected they were planning something when they organised your visit. I never knew they would do all this. You have to believe me."

"I don't." The story was too clean, too pity inducing. She refused to believe that the revered ruler she'd been dealing with for the past two years was nothing more than a puppet.

"I would have told you. I don't know what they were thinking. Maybe my satraps will kill me, and maybe not, but Atlas definitely will now."

That picture was able to bring a smile to her face. She could only hope to still be alive on the day when Atlesian dreadnoughts darkened the skies and caused the palace walls to shake. "It will be what you deserve."

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I've only tried to do what is best for our two countries. I want to prevent another war."

"It won't be much of one." That at least was certain.

"No," Badr agreed. "But people will still die. Innocent people. You can't wish death upon them as well."

"So what? You treat me like this, and then expect me to forget it all and forgive?" He was deluded. She would never be able to forget the shame, and nor did she want to forgive.

Badr's shoulders slumped. "No. But I told you, I'm not the one in control. I can't even offer to free you."

"So why are you here?" In his presence the solitude of her cell was much more appealing.

"Because Aatish told me to come down. He thought you'd be more willing to speak to me than him." He'd been right about that, but only just. "He's not scared of Atlas. He doesn't even think he'll have to fight."

The statement sent a chill down Weiss' spine. Did her citizens actually know what had befallen their ruler? Had Vacuo somehow managed to cover it all up? No. Her rational mind reasserted itself. That was impossible. She was a public figure. She couldn't just be disappeared. People would find out. "Then he's a fool."

"Aatish is many things, but a fool is not one of them. He has friends in Atlas. Powerful friends. They've lodged appeals with the courts, stirred up public opinion, launched TV ads. They've done everything they could think of to keep the Atlesian fleet grounded. It still is. There's no one coming to rescue you Weiss. At least not at the moment. And Aatish doesn't think there ever will be."

No one would dare. Surely. No one would risk her reprisal by going up against her. The Ice Queen was terrible, and her wrath too certain. No one would have so little to lose...

Some did though. Some had already stretched the limits of her patience. Coco and the other nobles of her little group. The ones she'd thought to inconsequential to stamp out. Surely this couldn't have been them.

Maybe she had underestimated them. It was a mistake she would take to her grave. Perhaps through through legal trickery they could ground the Atlesian fleet, but her personal forces were beyond any court's control. They must have been biding their time, waiting for the opportune moment. It was what she'd taught them.

"You still think you're going to be rescued don't you. That you don't have to play by Aatish's rules. Let me tell you, he's thought of that too. How do you think he managed to capture you so easily?" She'd been an idiot, that's how. "Where was your security detail?"

"You killed them."

Badr shook his head. "The only shots fired that night were in the room where you were captured. You were betrayed Weiss. Your head of security, Lord Wache I think is his name, he made a deal."

Her heart lurched. No. She wouldn't believe it. Erashan would never have betrayed her. He would have been loyal up until his dying breath. He'd loved her like the daughter he'd believed he'd never have. She'd trusted him implicitly. He'd saved her life numerous times. He would never have made a deal, unless…

Since the truth of Blake's involvement with the death of his father had been revealed, he had been more distant. Quieter. A little more brooding. His sense of honour had dictated that he take revenge. She'd asked him to put honour aside, and he'd done so. For her. Even in a matter as important as that, his loyalty to her had trumped all.

Surely he hadn't made a deal? Betrayed her to be captured in this cell? She couldn't believe that. She could believe Erashan was dead. She regretted it immensely, but she could believe. There was no possibility he had betrayed her. He couldn't have been bought for any price.

Then again, she would have expected the elite operatives who'd formed her security detail—hunters all who'd performed countless operations against the White Fang—to have made more of a commotion before they were killed. There would have been gunfire, explosions, Semblances. She'd heard nothing of that. Maybe it had happened after she was unconscious, or maybe not. Would their loyalty to Erashan trump the loyalty to her? Would they have abandoned her if he ordered? She didn't like to think so, but he had always been willing to put himself on the frontline. That was a trait soldiers admired.

No. She wouldn't believe it. Couldn't. Not until he stood before her and explained it in his own words. Erashan and her troops had died to defend her. It was as simple as that. Badr was just trying to get inside of her head.

"I don't believe you."

"I know betrayal is hard to take, but I'm telling the truth. Much like me, you will remain here. But unlike me, there is a chance that the satraps will allow you to leave."

"Oh, really?" she couldn't keep the scepticism from her voice. After going through this much trouble to capture her, they wouldn't just let her walk out. Especially with Coco and the others back in Atlas.

"Perhaps, after your trial."

"Trial?" she mustered up a laugh. It would be a trial in name only. "I suppose by kangaroo court? Or will you sit in judgement? What sham charges are you laying against me anyway? That I eat babies and consort with the Grimm?"

A hint of Badr's teeth showed beneath his lips in response to what he took as a joke. "Nothing so fictional I'm afraid. Though you will be found guilty. The evidence is too damning."

"It normally is when it's fabricated."

Badr retrieved a folder from just outside the door. He pulled a photo from inside it. "Do you recognise him?"

It was man, perhaps twenty-five with dark hair. "I've never seen him before in my life."

"I think you have, though I suppose his face might have been forgettable." Badr held up a sheet of paper. "Do you recognise that?"

Weiss squinted. The days in darkness had damaged her vision. The text was small, but there was an official Atlesian government letterhead at the top. As she read she began to remember. It was a photocopy of a death warrant, and her flowing signature was at the bottom. She glanced at the photo again.

"Yes," Badr said. "The same man. Ramil Wasem. You authorised his execution following the riots in Atlas in the wake of the bombing of Tintagel Castle. He was a Vacuan citizen on a temporary visa. You are being tried for his murder."

"He was a criminal." The rioters had been tearing up the city, bringing misery to hundreds of thousands. Her father had had to do something. It had been harsh, but it had been effective. There had been no more disturbances the following night.

"That was a matter for a jury to decide. You denied him that. They would have found him innocent, as you would have if you'd taken the time to investigate who you were sentencing to death. Here," he pulled out more photos, sheets of data. "Here he is in the lobby of his apartment building. Notice the timestamp? He didn't leave until your men arrived to arrest him. These are his internet logs. He was on a video call with his girlfriend for hours. All the time he was meant to have been rioting. Then he went to sleep. You sentenced an innocent man to death."

Weiss looked over the documents carefully. In a darkened cell it was hard to tell, but if they were forgeries, they were good ones. She screwed up her eyes, trying to go back to that night, trying to find anything that might help her here. There was nothing. Her father had left a stack of papers on her desk, forty three of them to be precise. There hadn't been hard evidence, just a line or two of text. It had been the first time she'd ever killed with a pen. She'd given orders to ADRG before, but these had been colder. And it had been hard. Terribly hard. By the end, the process had been little more than blur. She couldn't remember Ramil at all.

"He was guilty." She clung to that fact. Her father had always been meticulous. If Ramil's name had been selected, it was because there was at least a thread connecting him to the riots.

"No, he wasn't." For the first time Badr showed some anger. "Look at the evidence in front of you. You signed the warrant. You ordered the death of an innocent man. That makes you culpable. It's enough that Aatish thinks he's going to get away with all of this."

"So you execute me in reprisal and all this magically disappears?"

"You and Winter."

Her heart skipped a beat. "She wasn't involved in this." It had been her hand and hers alone on the pen.

"I know, but Aatish wishes to try her alongside you all the same."

"No." It was one thing to face her own kangaroo court. It was another to know that Winter would be alongside her, sharing her unjust fate.

"I've argued that, and I've managed to get Aatish to agree to a compromise."

"What is it?"

"You plead guilty—"

"Never!" Not while she was unsure if she'd even signed for Ramil. And regardless it had been necessary. Worth the cost.

"Weiss, hear me out. If you plead guilty, he'll let Winter go. She'll be put on an SDC airship back to Atlas the very same day. You can save her from this."

"And what of me?"

"I've managed to negotiate that down too. Blood money to Ramil's family, a more favourable trade deal that protects the satraps' interests, a signed document of non-reprisal against Vacuo, and house arrest, probably no more than six months."

"How generous." Weiss understood now. This had all been an elaborate scam to rip her off. They didn't care about Ramil, only about money.

Badr mistook her sarcasm. "Weiss, I've tried. It's six months instead of years, for both you and Winter. You'll have internet. You'll be able to keep your position at the head of Atlas. It's the best for both of our countries."

"The best for yours maybe."

"The best for both of ours. This way there's no war. In six months you'll be free, and we can put this behind us." Badr glanced behind him at the open door and spoke in a whisper. "With your help, maybe I'll even be able to regain some power. Overthrow the satraps." He raised his voice again. "We'll be able to bring our countries closer than ever. Just six months and then everything can go back to normal."

Normal? Nothing ever would. She would never be able to forget the indignity she'd suffered here. It would be burned into her until the day she died.

"Prison? Like I am now?"

"No. A house. A mansion if you want. You can afford it. I told you, I'm sorry about all this." He gestured at her chains. "I would never wish this upon anyone."

"Then change it."

"I told you that as well. I have very little power. I argued against your treatment, but Aatish wouldn't listen. This is what you can expect for years if you don't confess."

"Never."

Badr inclined his head, resignation settling on his features. "I'm not asking you to make a decision right now. Just think it over. Think of your sister. Of how she'd suffer in prison. You'll be found guilty regardless. That I'm certain of." He backed away, before stopping in the door. "Just think it through. Please."

The door slammed shut, and her world returned to darkness once more.

* * *

 

Weiss shifted, trying to extract a modicum of comfort from the concrete floor. It was a hopeless struggle. No doubt her body would be covered in bruises from sitting so long, but it wasn't like she'd had a choice. Since Badr's visit all she'd been able to do was to sit and think.

He might have been lying about Erashan, about Coco and the rest, but he had managed to plant the seed of doubt in her mind. There was a chance that there would be no rescue, no Atlesian reprisal. The Ice Queen had not been popular, she could recognise that, but she'd at least thought that she as a person had been. That her edicts had made life better for the majority of the populace. That they would miss her. Perhaps they might, but she'd made enemies. Ones she'd managed, but enemies all the same. Short of a general uprising, they were the ones with power.

She had to face up to the prospect that she might be stuck in this cell for as long as they decided it. Long enough for her to fade from importance. For Winter to be replaced at the SDC. For their family legacy to be stolen out from under them. It was a possibility that was becoming more real by the hour. Her guilt was assured. How long could she live like this before her will faded completely?

If he could be trusted—which she still wasn't sure about—Badr had given her an out. Six months, in a house, not chained like an animal but relatively free. Maybe even have a garden and able to breathe in the fresh air.

Winter could be free. She could go back to Atlas and maintain their grip on power, on their company. Together, they could work to undo any of the damage that had been done to their reputations. They could return things to almost normal. And then, afterwards, there would be reprisals for those who had moved against them.

Compared to years, to what could happen, six months wasn't that long. It was the best option. All she had to do was admit her guilt. That was the sticking point. No doubt many in the world viewed her soul as sullied—Ruby had—and though she had sentenced numerous people to death, she couldn't confess to a crime she couldn't remember.

That was wrong. Surely she should have been able to recall every single person that she'd ever sentenced to death. That the act of breaking the sanctity of life should have been imprinted on her mind. That their faces should haunt her.

They didn't though. When she truly believed that it was necessary for them to die, that they deserved it, she was able to forget. What did that say about her? Was she so cold?

It had cost her Ruby. Ruby might have been naïve in some ways, but she was so pure in others. She would never forget the faces of the people she'd had to kill when no other options were open to her. But the important thing was that she would have looked for those options. That killing was the absolute last resort for her.

During in the long hours of internal reflection in this cell, Weiss had admitted that it wasn't always for her. Often she had authorised executions simply because they were easier than the alternative. Less drawn out. Perhaps some of the criminals she had sentenced to die would have been able to be rehabilitated, but she hadn't given them the chance.

That was wrong. She could see that now. Ruby had always known it. The world they lived in was harsh and cruel enough without her adding to it. In her attempts to do the best for everyone, she had been unethical.

Looking back, there were many decisions that she wouldn't have changed. Ones that there had been no other option. But there were also many that she would. Her zeal to stop a reoccurrence of the situation in Vale, the near civil war in Atlas, her desire to make the world better, it had all blinded her.

With her tunnel vision, she hadn't been able to see how she herself was driving Ruby away. Forcing a wedge between them. It had been her fault. All her fault. Ruby would have wanted nothing more than to stay, but she hadn't been able to bear the pain of seeing the person she loved turn into the Ice Queen.

The Ice Queen couldn't have Ruby, but Weiss could. If she just acted fairer, with more restraint, relied more on dialogue than threats and force, maybe she could change. Standing on the top of the world was the loneliest position imaginable. She couldn't choose not to, it was in her blood. But maybe she could choose to have someone else by her side. The person that she loved with all her heart. She just had to be the person that Ruby would be proud to love right back.

It could start here. A confession to show her contrition. Maybe Ramil was just a fiction, but he could be a manifestation of her regrets, of her desire to change. And when Ruby saw, she would know just what it meant. That they could be together again.

Weiss waited until a guard's boots sounded in the corridor again before calling out. "Tell the king I'm ready to talk."

She was doing this for Winter. For Ruby. And for her.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Ruby blinked. Then again. And again. She screwed up her eyes, pressing her eyelids together as tightly as her muscles would allow. Her world became a red twilight for three long seconds. She opened them.

It didn't get better. Nothing changed. None of the impossible apparitions disappeared. Ruby jumped up, spinning on the spot. Her eyes told her that she'd woken in the middle of a city. Her ears brought her conversations and shouts in a language she didn't recognise. Her nose wrinkled as the disgusting stench of refuse and filth reached her. Ruby pinched herself on the thigh. It hurt.

All her senses told her the same thing. She'd lost her mind. Completely. Utterly. It wasn't a dream. She started to hyperventilate. It was beyond her control. She stumbled backwards, her hand pressing against the wall that couldn't possibly be there. Her back scraped on impossible stone as she slid down to the ground. Her head dropped between her knees and her fingers entwined in her hair. She clenched her teeth together so hard it was painful, the muscles in her jaw tight with terror.

She was scared. So scared. She'd gone mad. Of her many problems, she'd believed that she'd overcome her mental issues. That she'd beaten them. Maybe not into submission, not completely, but she thought she'd at least managed to take control of them. Mastered them. Now they'd returned with a vengeance.

Her depression had been one thing. That lethargic pall had at one time come close to smothering her entirely. This though, this was different. She was hallucinating. Hallucinating with frightening clarity. The sounds, the smells, the feel, they all seemed so real, and they just couldn't be.

Her desire to unearth the truth about Ozpin, to rediscover history, had twisted her mind. She'd wanted it so much. Spent so much time fantasising about her latest goal. When she'd found the ruins, it had broken her.

She should have seen it coming. All the dreams she'd had. The gut feeling that had brought her halfway across a continent and kept her from going to see her sister. That wasn't normal. Or rational. The signs were obvious. She'd been going crazy for weeks. She wasn't even sure if the ruins were real anymore. They could have just been another phantasm.

Her head was spinning, pounding, her lungs burning. Panic ripped at her. She'd gone crazy. Had she even talked to Yang again? Or had she simply imagined that as well. It has seemed so real… but so did this. She squeezed her temples between her knees, pressing down as hard as she could, willing it all to disappear.

Something settled on her shoulders. A warm, comforting something. It wrapped around and embraced her. It was soft, and heavy, and so familiar. It was as if a cloak had been draped across her shoulders. The same cloak she'd once used to shield herself from the troubles of the world. The melody of a lullaby drifting through the still air brought tears to her eyes.

Suddenly she no longer cared if she was crazy, if it was all fake. Not when she could hear that lullaby again after so long. The lilting tones were so beautiful. They weren't even real words, just sounds. But they contained so much love. Concentrating on the harmony and nothing else, she began to bring her breathing into line. In for six, hold for eight, out for ten, and repeat.

She opened her eyes. She was still sitting on well-trodden dirt, buildings still rose up around her, but they no longer filled her with absolute dread. If she'd gone mad, she'd gone mad. She couldn't change it just by wishing.

What she could do was explore the depths of her insanity. Her mind had conjured up this vibrant city where nothing had been before. It was incredible, something few would ever be able to experience, even if it was just a fabrication.

With her mother's lullaby flowing around her and the phantom weight of a cloak settled on her shoulders, she was able to find the strength to stand up and walk into the city. Houses—or at least she guessed houses—bordered both sides of the slightly larger dirt road. Her boots splashed into a small stream; leaning down she immediately wished that she hadn't. The smell made her gag. If the city had a sewer system, it wasn't connected to this district. Scuffing her boots in the dirt, she moved on.

She was drawn to a proper cobble-paved road. She found people there, all wearing strange clothes. Most seemed to have singular strips of linen wrapped around their body, sometimes baring shoulder, sometimes covering themselves more completely. The colours were muted—greys and browns—a contrast to the brilliant blue of the sky.

Those conversing were doing so in a strange language, one she didn't think she'd ever heard before. It grated against her ears. Stepping into the road, she wondered why she wasn't causing a commotion. Her clothes, her pack, Crescent Rose, surely they should have been enough to mark her as a stranger. Instead, no one even looked in her direction.

"Hey," Ruby said waving her hand towards the nearest person. The idea of starting up a conversation with a complete stranger still made her stomach flutter, but there wasn't really a choice. The man ignored her entirely. Walking straight past her with a bundle clutched to his chest.

Ruby stared at his departing back, not quite sure what to make of it. It had been rude in the extreme, but perhaps there was a cultural taboo against acknowledging her. She tried again, and again, and again. Not one person on the street stopped to help her. Frustrated, she stepped out directly into the path of the next person she saw, hands on her hips, her irritation drowning out any of her nerves.

The woman didn't lock eyes with her, didn't say anything, didn't even slow down at all. Ruby had to leap out of the way to avoid colliding and in doing so she put herself in someone else's path. They didn't slow down either. Ruby braced herself for an impact, her Aura flaring, but none came. The man passed straight through her as if she didn't exist.

Her mouth fell open. He looked so real. She could see every individual hair on the back of his head, the stains on his clothes, and the marks his sandals left in the dirt. Yet he'd walked straight through her as if he were a ghost. Or as if she were a ghost. Given that she was in his city, the latter was probably more apt.

Tentatively, she reached towards another person. There was no sensation of cold or chill, but her arm passed straight through his flesh. It would have been better if one or both of them had wobbled like a mirage. Instead her eyes told her he was solid, while her arm told her he most definitely was not.

The pressure of her insanity surged up again, and the lullaby swelled in response. She wasn't well. She really wasn't well. People weren't just there and not there. It didn't make sense. She could touch the walls, the floor, but not them. She didn't know what sort of rules her mind had concocted, but they weren't consistent. She almost broke down again, almost wanting to fall into a pit of fear and despair, but a singular fact held her fast.

The city was still around her. It would exist whether she acknowledged it or not. Whether she could interact with anyone or not. There was so much potential here. Insane or not, she believed there was a reason for her hallucinations. That they were somehow important.

So people couldn't see or interact with her. She could still see them, and, without them getting in her way, she could do whatever she wanted in the city. It was an idle daydream that many children had at one point or another. She was practically unstoppable.

Invigorated, she bounced off. Apart from the people and the houses on either side, there wasn't much to see in the street. In the distance a roar split the air. It was one that could only have come from many thousands of throats.

The sound led her down the street onto a great thoroughfare. The paved road stretched dozens of feet across, more than wide enough for an army to march down without breaking ranks. There were hundreds of people there. Some carrying their wares, others leading pack mules or even simple carts and wagons. Despite there being so many people, Ruby was easily able to look over their heads. She must have been the tallest person around.

The road was arrow straight. Ruby followed it—and the general flow of people—towards the middle of the city. The name of the settlement was still unknown to her. That in itself was strange. If she truly believed her fantasy had even a grain of truth, surely some legends of this great city should have remained. That is, unless the city and its people had existed so long ago that not only had the legend of it faded into myth but, as the centuries passed, even the myth had been forgotten.

There was another great roar, a cheer of people enjoying themselves, and this time Ruby was able to see where it emanated from. A building so large it made her pause. A building so large she couldn't believe that it had ever existed at this time. It dwarfed everything else in sight. Even the great temple of Calakmul would have fit inside it with room to spare.

Made of pale yellow stone, the great circular building was a marvel to behold. Countless numbers of supporting and decorative arches were built into its sides, while scores of flags fluttered from its top; it must have been at least five stories tall. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew what was inside, but she had to know for sure.

Ruby followed the crowd that was filtering in. If possible the innards of the structure were even more impressive. The stonework carved with vines formed tunnels and stairs that all led to one central location. She'd been right. It was an amphitheatre. One which was filled with thousands upon thousands of people enjoying a celebration. Drink flowed, food was passed around, and everyone faced inwards, towards the sand-covered pit in the middle.

The atmosphere buzzed, and Ruby knew just where the inspiration for this fiction was from. For a moment she was back in Vale—back before her world had fallen apart—walking out into the middle of the main arena for her first fight in the tournament. The similarities were eerie. The crowd, the sandy expanse, even the curtained area for what must have been VIP seating.

Well aware that no one could see her, Ruby took a place right on the edge of the pit as the wooden gates below her opened. The crowd went wild. Men marched out. Men carrying an assortment of weapons and baring a lot of skin. They stopped in the middle of the arena, raised their blades towards the curtained area, and shouted something in unison. The cheers of the crowd only grew louder as they separated into a rough circle, all facing each other, bringing their weapons to bear.

Trumpets blared, fighting against the cacophony, but the men heard. They charged in. There wasn't much skill on offer, at least not to her eyes. If she was down there she could have beaten them all handily. If they had Semblances they didn't use them. Instead they just hacked at each other, swinging wildly as if they had barely held a sword before this point. Half the attacks missed entirely, others were blocked, and a few bounced off Auras.

It was a melee, complete chaos. If it had happened in the Vytal tournament, the fight would have been panned worldwide. As it was the crowd lapped it up. Not all of the men had run in though. Some with more armour than the rest waited on the side, biding their time.

In an instant, they moved together. One with an axe corralled a man towards another with a net and a trident. Their victim recognised the trap too late. The mesh wrapping around his weapon and his arms, he tumbled to the ground entirely enshrouded. Thousands of throats roared, and the trident speared home.

It wasn't a final hit to lower the person's Aura though, the three harsh prongs passed into flesh and came out dripping red. The fighter jerked his weapon free and held the trident above his head in victory. Acid surged into Ruby's throat. It was all she could do not to throw up at the sight before her. She turned away. She had to.

Fighting as a sport she could understand. She loved watching the bouts. Killing for sport, taking the most precious of gifts for entertainment, was abhorrent to her. A child, a boy barely ten years old screamed, an exultant mask on his face. A child watching murder.

Time passed and cultures changed. Life hadn't always had the value it now held, especially to her, but even thinking that at one point people had cheered for scenes like this made her want to throw up. And they'd been cheering since she'd woken. How many people had lost their lives? No wonder they barely looked trained. No skilled fighter would willingly enter that slaughter.

She wouldn't. Not for any prize. In her life she'd killed two people. By all accounts, two evil people. She'd made a conscious decision. Numerous people had told her she shouldn't feel bad, absolved her of blame. It didn't matter. She still hated that she'd been forced into the act that had sullied her very soul.

If she could have she would have rushed down there and stopped the barbarity at the heart of this civilization. But she couldn't. She could no more affect this than pull the moon back over the horizon. Bereft of choice, and with the sound of cheers and mortal screams ringing in her ears, she ran from the amphitheatre. Outside, in the midst of all those still winding their way towards the slaughter, she fought with her stomach. She didn't know why her mind had concocted this scene, but she wished it away with all her might. Her wishes were for nought. She could only act with her body. Put distance between her and the vulgarity.

She ran on towards the centre of the city. The road rose up towards the peak of the tallest hill. The buildings around her grew more elaborate—made of better-quality materials—and so did the people. Though there were many who looked just the same as before, there were others dressed in colourful swathes of material. Some were even being carried by teams of servants or slaves. The rich always existed where there were poor.

The road came to an end at the hill's summit and opened into a plaza. After the grandiosity of the inner city, Ruby had expected a palace or something equally ostentatious. Instead a modest building sat before her. It might have been made of sparkling marble decorated with twisting patterns, but it was small. There were less people here, some selling food, but most talking in hushed tones. Even the children were behaved. A small boy licked his hand and smoothed down his hair before going inside.

Ruby followed him. The room was dimly lit by torches burning on the walls. Women and girls in pure white robes greeted the guests, removing their sandals and washing their feet. Ruby recognised their type. This was a place of worship, and they were priestesses.

She felt as if her very presence profaned the sanctity of the temple. Despite the absurdity of it, Ruby removed her own boots and socks, splashing her soles with water from the fountain. The music that had been playing in the back of her mind hummed in resonance to her decision.

Once clean, the worshipers passed through a door. The room beyond was bright, painfully so. In the middle, a plinth carved from the finest marble stood; upon it the largest White Dust crystal she'd ever seen rested in all its glory.

It wasn't cut like the ones she was familiar with. It wasn't a neat diamond shape. Instead it was a hunk, bristling with jagged edges and rounded protrusions. Its outer edges might have been dark, but its innards projected power. It hummed with it. The very air hummed with it. No wonder it had been worshipped.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" The voice came from right next to her ear.

Ruby jumped about a foot in the air, an undignified shriek shattering the reverent silence.

Long dark hair framed a face that was almost ageless. The woman could have said she was anywhere between twenty and fifty and Ruby would have believed her. Apart from the eyes. There was an undefinable weight behind them. Dressed in the white robes of the other priestesses, she blended with the rest of the people in the room. With one notable exception, of course. She was staring right at Ruby.

"You… you can see me?"

The woman smiled at her reaction. A smile full of empathy and compassion. One that could ease even the sharpest of pain from a skinned knee. "I can see a beautiful young woman." Her voice was soft and warm.

For some reason the unearned compliment made her blush. "You obviously can't then."

"Nonsense child. Beauty, true beauty, comes from the soul. You would be beautiful even if you were hideous, which rest assured you are not." There was a peculiarity in the way she spoke, as if she chose each and every one of her words carefully.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Aurora. I have been looking forward to having this conversation."

"You have?" For some reason Aurora seemed to be a separate entity from the rest of the fictional world, and it wasn't just because she was the only one among thousands who could see her. Aurora seemed more substantial. More real.

"I have been watching you for quite some time."

"You have?" Ruby repeated.

"You are quite the remarkable young woman. To discover all that you have, and on your own."

Ruby bit her lower lip. The pair of them stood in a bubble of tranquillity as others moved unseeingly around them. Aurora could only be talking about her expeditions, but in that case there was no way she could have known.

"Just who are you? Really?" Aurora must have been a manifestation of her mind, somehow separate from the rest of her hallucinations.

"That is an interesting question, but I think the first that needs to be answered is, where are we?"

"Umm…" Ruby knew where, but hesitated to give voice to her delusions and say it. "In my head."

Dimples grew on Aurora's cheeks as she tried not to laugh. "Technically, that would be part true. Though trust me, you aren't mad. That deduction was unfortunate, but not unexpected. We didn't wish to cause you any distress. Rest assured, I'm not a figment of your imagination. I'm as real as you are."

"I'm not crazy?"

"No." White teeth showed as Aurora grinned. "Though, of course, if you truly were then that is what I would say. You will have to trust me here. All this," she gestured around at the temple, "and the fact that we are talking to each other, is due to the unique abilities of one of my oldest friends. You are currently asleep."

"But…" It couldn't be a dream. It was too vivid. She pinched herself again. It hurt again.

Aurora smiled. She reached forward and the softness of her fingers brushed against Ruby's skin. The touch was so real. "It's a special dream. You will wake unharmed and remember everything. So, with that out the way, where do you think we are?"

Ruby looked around. She wanted to believe, she really did. If it was all just someone's Semblance—rather than her insanity—that was causing this, it would be a great weight off her mind. "A city?"

Aurora clasped her hands in front of her. "That's a start. The ruins you found, those scant few bricks and pieces of stone are the age-forgotten remnants of that which is all around you. A city, yes. The first city. The first time humanity put down roots and established true civilization. The first time that we were no longer prey for the Grimm. All because of that," she nodded towards the crystal of Dust. "All because of the Aether."

"How do you know this?"

"Think about who you have been fixated on." For the first time Aurora turned away. Her eyes settled on the young boy in dirt-stained clothes that Ruby had seen outside, and an equally young girl in immaculate white. "It's amazing that no matter how many countless years pass, some memories never fade."

"What?" Ruby peered closer, it was just a boy in old dirty clothes.  _The person she'd been fixated on._  "That's… it can't be."

The boy produced a small cake from underneath his tunic. The girl turned her head, her cheeks glowing pink in the light from the Aether. She took the boy's other hand and, with the patter of playful feet, led him off at a run.

"He always used to bring me treats whenever he came to the city. Sweet meats or pastries. I shouldn't have had them, I wasn't allowed. We both risked being thrashed if we were discovered, him more so than me. We thought we were so brave, so clever. Now I see how the sisters turned a blind eye." Aurora smiled as she took in the scene.

Ruby stared at Aurora with freshly opened eyes. "You're one of them." She backed away reflexively. Her hand settling on Crescent Rose in her belt. She'd had an awfully long time to imagine what would happen if Ozpin caught up with her. If he worked out just how close she was to exposing him. He might not have found her out, but, if Cinder was anything to go by, his peers were just as dangerous.

A joyous laugh rang out. "One of  _them,"_  she stressed the word. "How ominous. How frightening. A tale to scare the children around the campfire. Come everyone, listen to the tale of us and  _them_." She laughed again, before becoming aware of Ruby's animosity to being made a mockery of. "Child, I jest. I swear that I am not here to hurt you. If I was, I wouldn't be telling you all of this." She gestured openly at the room. "As a girl I was a priestess in this very temple. As a boy, Ozpin used to visit me. I am indeed one of  _them,_  if that is what you wish to call us."

Ruby wasn't entirely convinced. It was a sign of just how much pressure she'd lived under for the past two years that even someone as seemingly trustworthy as Aurora could not lower her guard. It might have been paranoid, but it was also smart.

"So what do I call you?"

Aurora didn't seem concerned by her stand-off attitude, continuing to face her with a warm smile. "We've had many names over the centuries, but we usually refer to our collective by the first. We are the Pantheon."

"Just how many of you are there?" Ruby had started off just thinking it was Ozpin and Cinder, but then Yang had told her there were more. It was apparent that she'd been chasing an organisation she'd completely underestimated in scope.

"We number seven. You know Ozpin and myself, obviously. I believe you are aware of Cinder, as she has named herself now. There are others. I hope that you will agree to meet some of them soon, but first there is a reason why we have shown you all this. This city. The Aether. Do you know the reason why civilization can be allowed to exist?"

The change in topic was abrupt, almost deliberate. Ruby shook her head. It sounded like a philosophical question. She'd always hated those.

"It can only exist through force of arms. This city was a bastion of culture. Music, art, theatre, thrived here. They were allowed to thrive because we, the people who lived here, were stronger than those who didn't. We were the first to develop Auras, some even developed Semblances. It made us unmatched in warfare. For the first time in history, we did not have to live nomadically. We could fight the Grimm on our terms and drive them back. For the first time in history, we were no longer the prey of the monsters in the night.

"And civilization was allowed to exist, because a hundred years before this point, a tribe saw the tear of a goddess fall from the sky. They followed it, right to this very hilltop. They swore to protect it. So did their descendants, and their descendants. In return it made them strong. A temple was constructed around it. Priests and priestesses spent their lives in silent contemplation of the miracle. It was what had been ordained for me.

"This city flourished, but further afield, tribes continued to fall to the Grimm. The world was not safe, nor was it won. It wouldn't be until all could experience the same miracle.

"As a priestess I knew more than most. I knew tales that were not meant for the majority ears, and I knew what was right. There were those who shared my dream. It was fate which brought us together. Even now I'm sure of it. Seven individuals. Each somehow born with a fledgling Semblance when only the minority were. Combined we could make the impossible reality."

"What did you do?" Ruby breathed.

"What did we do? We shattered the moon."

 


	24. Chapter 24

Blake crushed her ears against her hair. It didn't help. A whimper escaped her lips as the artillery pieces shook the ground again. It wasn't noise. It couldn't be described as mere noise. She could have coped with that. Instead an assault was unleashed on her senses every ten seconds.

A pure, physical battering. The shockwaves pounded against ears that could pick up a falling pin at a dozen paces. It was relentless. She was wearing earplugs. They didn't make a difference. Nothing could. Even the walls of the barracks couldn't help her.

She wasn't meant to be inside. She was meant to be out there, next to the field guns, waiting for the assault that would follow immediately after the creeping barrage. A single volley had been enough for her to break ranks. It had just been too much. It didn't help that others were with her.

It must have been worse for Velvet. Orders of magnitude worse. With her curled up into a ball on the floor, Blake made sure to keep a hand on her shoulder even through the pain. She knew what it was like to suffer alone.

Yang tried to help. She couldn't really. Not when she wasn't able to understand what they were going through. She could empathise, but she couldn't know; not when to her they were just loud noises.

Blake's stomach muscles tensed as the silent countdown in her head reached one. She screwed up her eyes and ground her teeth together in anticipation and dread. Blake waited, and waited, and waited. No boom followed. No rending shake. Only a high-pitched ringing in her ears.

Yang's mouth was moving. She was saying something. Blake couldn't hear a word. She dug a small foam cylinder out of the canal of her human ear with a fingernail.

"…over, we should be good." Blake was only just able to make out what Yang was saying by reading her lips. It did seem like it was over. Surely they would have fired again by now. She squeezed Velvet's shoulder.

The both of them were used to the sounds of combat, gunshots and explosions, but there was a big difference between that and the repetitive barrage of artillery. A world of difference. The normal earplugs she'd worn had done nothing.

The barracks didn't have a door, only a curtain, and Taiyang pushed it aside. He paused as he took in the two Faunus in the room.

"What's going on?" Yang asked.

"We're moving in," Taiyang paused for a moment. "Maybe you should stay here, look after those two."

Blake knew what he was doing. He was doing what any father would do when heading into a dangerous situation. He was trying to protect his daughter, giving her a good reason to stay away. His heart was in the right place, but his head most definitely wasn't.

"Not a chance." It was only after she'd spoken that Yang looked back to check Blake's opinion. She needn't have bothered. In this they were of one mind. Neither would allow others to go into danger in their stead.

Velvet felt the same. She pushed herself to her knees. Though her skin was pallid and her ears drooped down over her face, her body showed nothing but resolve. This was a battle Taiyang knew he wouldn't wind—not when faced with those who were at least as stubborn as he was.

"Fine, but you're going to have to hurry."

Blake helped Velvet to her feet. Both of them were still a little unsteady—Blake's head still rang—but they forced themselves outside into the bright light of the morning. There was no sense in giving the Grimm any advantage when it came to the time of their assault.

The captured smoke within the compound's walls stung her eyes and seared her nostrils. It was barely possible to see the piles of brass cartridges near the artillery pieces. Blake noted their technicians at least had proper ear protection, a requirement that had been overlooked for the rest of them. Not that it would have helped her or Velvet anyway.

Raven knelt near the far wall, her hand outstretched and quivering. The largest portal that Blake had ever seen her create hung immobile nearby. It must have been thirty feet high and a dozen wide; it was large enough for even the mechs to pass through it abreast. They were doing just that. Gradually almost all the forces they'd collected here were deploying.

Taiyang led them back to their abandoned positions near the tracks of the vehicle carrying the bomb. They were to protect it at all costs. It was a mark of just how important a task Cinder rated it in that she'd assigned herself to the duty as well.

She wasn't alone, nor perhaps in charge anymore. The king of Vacuo had arrived with her a couple of hours ago. He might have been older than most here, but Blake had no doubts that he knew his way around a battlefield. There was no trace of fear in him as waited for his turn to pass through the portal.

He looked much like the warrior-kings of old. His armour was practical, but it didn't try to obscure the fact of who he was; the gilding on the chest piece bore his coat of arms. He hadn't bothered with a helmet either. Instead a slender circlet encased his greying hair. Both he and Cinder exuded auras of complete authority; Blake didn't want to see what would happen if they clashed.

Though of course she knew. The king might have been surrounded by half a dozen of his own guards—ceremonially armed and armoured, though without a doubt deadly—but they were still men. Cinder could have killed them all with barely a thought.

The engines in the truck rattled to life, a subsurface thrum emanating from them. Slowly the machine began to crawl forward. Their deployment onto the island wasn't a massed charge. Even ignoring that Raven's portal was too small, there was no need. It would have only added unnecessary chaos to the danger. The artillery bombardment should have given them the necessary breathing room to re-form on the other side.

Cinder broke off from her conversation with the king to glance over at them. "Velvet, I trust that you are recovered."

Blake doubted that Velvet could hear at all, but she must have been reading Cinder's lips. Her reply was louder than it should have been. "Umm… yes."

"Then stay close to me." It wasn't much of a surprise that Cinder wanted her—the only other Dust user who even began to approach her level—nearby.

The front end of the truck passed into the portal, its roof almost scraping the swirling border of black and red. Blake clenched her stomach and stepped through. The familiar rending sensation assaulted her momentarily before her boots crunched onto the beach.  _Crunched_ , because the heat of bombardment had turned the sand into shards of glass. For hundreds of metres the ground was pockmarked by a steadily expanding ring of craters and corpses. The smell of Dust was even stronger here, and the unpleasant stench was not helped by how it intermingled with blood.

Blake kept moving. Prepared for the ordeal of passing through Raven's portals, she was doing a lot better than most of the troops. To be fair, the majority had remained on their feet, but some were being dragged upright by their superiors.

Even without the craters and corpses, there was no way Blake would have mistaken the beach for being anywhere apart from Menagerie. Anywhere else she would have expected white or yellow sand, here it was black. Her eyes told her enough, but it was her gut that told her the real truth. The sense of foreboding that seemed to permeate the very air was an order of magnitude stronger here. She, they, were nothing more than intruders on an island that didn't want them.

The truth of the matter came a moment later. The creeping barrage might have driven back all the Grimm that had been gathering on the beach, but now it had ceased. Red eyes appeared in the splintered and dead forests up ahead. A lot of them. An awful lot. Enough that it made Blake's heart pause.

With an unconscious, almost symbiotic signal, they erupted from their hiding places at the same time. Beowolves took the lead, springing ahead on their long legs, barking and howling as they tore towards their prey. Ursas followed in their wake. The larger Grimm, the Deathstalkers, the King Taijitus, skittered and slithered right behind. Nevermores and Griffons rose from their perches, joining the wave of black fur and white teeth surged towards them.

They knew to expect this. The few who had been to Menagerie before had warned them of the huge numbers of Grimm. Still, hearing was one thing, seeing was entirely another. Blake ripped Gambol Shroud from her back. Normally her mind was clear in combat, here she just didn't know which out of the hundreds of Grimm in front of her she should target. Anything would just be a spit in the ocean.

"Brace!" Someone shouted and the cry was taken up by others.

Blake followed the example of everyone else and ducked down. A whistling reached her ears a heartbeat before fires erupted in the midst of the swarm. Already ranged and calibrated, the artillery pieces had conducted a danger-close fire-mission with minimal risk to the friendly forces.

Minimal, because even if being near the guns while they were being fired was bad, being downrange was an awful lot worse. Grimm were tossed into the air as if they were dolls, their bodies shredded and rent by the Dust-filled shells.

The coalesced shockwave of the half-dozen explosions turned the sand of the beach into missiles themselves. The fine grains ripped at Blake's skin as the noise struck her. The combined explosions were so intense her vision whited out for a moment as her nerves overloaded.

Though, just because she was in pain, it didn't mean the world had stopped. That had been a truth she'd learnt the hard way. In the wake of the explosions gunfire erupted. The final artillery barrage had disrupted the charge of the Grimm, but it hadn't killed them all, not even by a fraction.

As the Grimm adjusted to the assault, tripping and sprawling over the prone fallen forms, the soldiers opened fire. The fastest line of Beowolves that had raced under the shells entirely were halted as if they'd run into a wall, dozens of bullets striking each of them.

The Janissaries had positioned themselves front and centre in the formation and bore the brunt of the assault. As before, they concentrated on the larger Grimm, the ones that wouldn't be brought down by small arms. Rockets slewed out from the protrusions on their shoulders and, in comparison to the artillery, blossomed into pinpricks of fire.

The AA systems and the soldiers who'd been equipped with shoulder-mounted systems launched missiles at the Grimm that plunged from above. Feathers and blood rained down.

The combined efforts of the troops and the heavier weaponry managed to slow down the charge. That was the reason they'd spent days on the island off the coast. This way the fight was on their terms, in an open space, while they were in formation and with heavier weapons supporting them. From this position of strength they could move forward, dealing with the Grimm as they appeared, without running the risk of being surrounded and overwhelmed.

The troops might have slowed the charge, but they couldn't stop it. The Grimm were just too resistant to bullets. That was why, no matter the advances in weapons technology, hunters always preferred to trust their own strength.

Blake leapt through the line of kneeling soldiers, Gambol Shroud tracing a line up an Ursa's side. The Grimm broke off its charge, swiping a paw at her. Its claws met only her Shadow. Yang struck it from the other side just in time for Blake to reappear at its head. Her two-handed attack bounced from the bone of its snout and carved a chunk of flesh away. Between the two of them they managed to cripple the Ursa quickly, but they had no other option. More Grimm arrived every second.

Blake dived out of the way as she picked up the fluttering of feathers directly above her. A Griffon collided with the air where her back had been not a second before, its hind legs gouging into the sand. She couldn't waste any time. She jumped in—blades in both hands—and stabbed out.

It had been a long time since she'd fought Griffons. In Vacuo she'd had to pay more attention to what was under the ground than in the air. She'd forgotten just how quick Griffons could be. It danced aside from her attack, and returned it in kind, its beak clamped down on her sheath.

She should have let go. All her training, her instincts, told her to let go and not to let her adversary dictate her movements. But her brain told her to hang on. That if she released her grip in the midst of the melee she'd likely never see her weapon again.

The momentary hesitation cost her. The Griffon yanked her off balance and straight into its hind claws. The next instant Blake was blinking up from the ground, her arm burning but still clutching her sheath. The Griffon raised its leg. Blake rolled, and rolled, dodging attack after attack, and never quite managing to buy enough time or gain enough purchase to get out of danger entirely. The weapons she'd clung on to were proving nothing more than hindrances.

The Griffon was getting impatient too. It took off and gained a couple of feet before locking eyes with her and plunging downwards. Blake gritted her teeth and buried her blades in the sand, their points straight up.

The Grimm's side blossomed with fire. The concussive force knocked it sideways and slammed it into the ground next to her. The Grimm lay motionless save its twitching feathers as they burned. It would have been too easy to question what had happened. Instead Blake counted her blessings and jumped to her feet. With the Griffon carcass somewhat shielding her, she had a few moments to look around.

Yang and a group of soldiers were busy dealing with a Deathstalker that had got too close. No wonder she hadn't come to Blake's aid. The soldiers nearest to her had likely tried to, but there were just too many Grimm. What had been well-organised lines were barely holding. Only the centre and the bomb seemed untouched.

Velvet saw her looking and gave her a thumbs up. Blake nodded her thanks, the assist now making sense. Someone had been looking out for her. In fact, Velvet seemed to be trying to look out for everyone. Whenever she saw someone in trouble the elements came to their rescue. It was impressive but, in comparison to what Blake knew she could do, Velvet seemed to be saving herself for something.

Cinder certainly was. She still walked next to king, and both appeared as if they could have been on a diplomatic stroll, not in the middle of a battle. The king's guards had spread out around him, intent on ensuring he never got even remotely close to danger.

All up and down the formation, people fought the horde. The only saving grace was that their expedition wasn't unprepared. The wave of Grimm would have been too much for nearly any force as small as theirs. As it was, the Grimm encountered dozens of hunters, some with decades of fighting behind them. With the unique telepathy that only experience could provide they began to carve their way through the swarm. Qrow, Taiyang, Port, and Oobleck were right at the very tip of the wedge.

Blake linked back up with Yang. All of them had them same mantra, to keep moving forwards, not to stop. Now that they'd absorbed the initial charge, things became a little easier. Without the weight of momentum behind them, only so many Grimm could reach them at once.

Their formation became tighter, pressing themselves almost shoulder to shoulder. The mechs providing a solid brace every dozen feet. They weren't as effective as the foot soldiers armed with swords and shields like troops of the past, but they presented a solid wall to the Grimm. Only the hunters ranged beyond the line of rifles, pulling back when they'd created a pocket of space.

Despite the tactics and their skill, this was a battle unlike any other Blake had seen. Perhaps Vale had had more participants, but here, on an entirely too creepy island in the middle of the ocean, the Grimm seemed almost endless. The weight of numbers was beginning to take its toll. They had to keep moving. They didn't have a choice. To stop was to die. Blake knew that. They all knew that. It didn't make it any easier to leave those who went down though. At least their deaths were quick.

War against the Grimm had always been one of attrition. Though the beach behind them was carpeted with black bodies, there were people intermingled with them. Every so often, when she had a moment to breathe, Blake glanced around, checking that all her friends were still there. They were, but they continually had more and more to do to sustain the formation.

A screeching bellow erupted from the trees. The mech nearest the source of the noise crashed to the ground under a swirling frenzy of black and red chitin. The Mogwai hammered at its armour, crushing the pilot within. With one swipe its scythe-like claws ripped two men in half, their guts streaming through the air behind them like a banner.

The Mogwai surged through the hole it had torn in their lines and headed straight towards the group of people in the centre. Cinder raised her hand, ready to unleash hell upon it. No primal explosion came. The Mogwai barrelled over the royal guard that leapt to intercept it, its weight pressing his breastplate flat. A kick sent another tumbling away, and the king was left exposed.

He dived away from the first attack, springing to his feet with an agility that belied his years. In a smooth motion he drew a black sword from both ends of the single sheath strapped to his back.

Badr sidestepped from the next strike, and spun on his heel, his swords lashing out. The instant before they bounced from the chitin, the midnight swords flared into the brightest day. Their white edges sliced through the armour without resistance, severing the Mogwai's leg. Badr didn't let up, in a flurry of white and black he carved the Grimm to pieces. It took him only a couple of seconds to dispatch one of the most feared Grimm on the planet.

Blake found herself momentarily stunned. She wasn't the only one. Even the royal guards stared open-mouthed as if they didn't believe their eyes. Blake didn't blame them. Badr had attacked with a swiftness and skill that shouldn't have been possible for someone seemingly as old as him. It was as if the battle had brought him back to his youth.

Of course, it had helped that he had such a pair of fabulous weapons. They were Erashan's swords, she had no doubt; she'd been too intimately familiar with them too recently not to recognize them... In any other scenario Blake would have pondered just over how the king of Vacuo had obtained them. Were they an elaborate gift, or had he gained them through a method more sinister? But here, in the middle of a running battle, she didn't have the time. Badr sheathed his weapons with a flourish, and ordered his three remaining guards back to position before glaring at Cinder. She only raised her eyebrow in response. She still hadn't joined the fray.

One of the Janissaries broke off from the combat long enough to drag the corpse of the Mogwai from the path of the truck carrying the bomb. In the midst of the dead forest, their progress was slower. Those up front not only had to deal with the Grimm, but find a path that their formation could pass through otherwise unimpeded.

Away from the beach, they had at least weathered the initial swarm. The Grimm no longer attempted to overwhelm them through force of numbers, but instead, just like the Mogwai had, they lay in wait and ambushed them. It was proving more effective. With the cover of the forest the long-range weapons of the Janissaries and soldiers were useless. The hunters had to pick up even more of the slack. The attacking Grimm were now bigger, older, smarter. They'd known the fallacy of attacking over open ground. They'd bided their time, and it was paying off.

Yang went down under the pounce of Cheshire. Blake lost the ability to think. In desperation she used her Semblance twice in quick succession, and reappeared in the middle of a double-legged kick. The impact pistoned her knees into her chest, but it achieved her aim of throwing the Grimm off of Yang. Blake landed on top of her, but neither had time to recover. Yang almost bench-pressed Blake off of her before leaping up.

Yang ignored the angry red lines across her stomach left by the Cheshire's hind claws, and jumped straight back into the fight. A pair of Sun's clones joined her a moment later. With the Grimm distracted by the glowing figures, Yang threw a Semblance-enhanced combo at its ribs. Bones broke, but it wouldn't go down so easily.

Blake yanked Yang back out of the way again in the nick of time. Her swords flashed as shining claws met them. The Cheshire was faster than her, much faster. It was the fastest opponent Blake had ever fought, except perhaps Ruby. The only reason she was able to avoid its claws was because it was outnumbered. Alone it would have gutted her in short order.

The three of them—plus Sun's clones which were destroyed almost as quickly as they were created—attacked it from all sides. Blake's thoughts couldn't even keep up with her body's instincts. She cut, dodged, and parried while barely seeing what she was reacting to. The Cheshire was nothing more than a blur to her senses.

A paw caught her on the wrist. Something popped. Pain erupted. Her hand spasmed open and her sheath sailed into the air. She barely managed to turn Gambol Shroud to catch the follow up attack, but her one-handed grip didn't have the strength. The hit slammed the back of her own blade into her face. The Cheshire bellowed.

Blake ended up on the floor again. She lashed out with her sword, but her blow lacked any real power. Only Sun and Yang's continued attacks were able to bring her a brief respite. Pushing the discomfort and pain to the back of her mind, she focused on the more primal part of her brain. The part that said to fight now, and lick her wounds later.

Their skirmish with Cheshire had carried them deeper into the forest. The main formation was still in sight, but they were in real danger of being left behind, or surrounded. Blake pulled the secondary trigger on Gambol Shroud and let loose a burst of fire that managed to momentarily secure one part of their flank.

Her left arm hung numb and useless at her side. Even so, Yang and Sun were struggling. Blake waded back in. The three of them could probably have handled a Cheshire with a little bit of prep, but they hadn't had it. Instead they'd been fighting for what felt like hours since landing on the beach. They'd hurt the cat, but that had only succeeded in enraging it further.

A portal ripped into existence next to them and Raven leapt through it. Wearing her Grimm mask and headdress, she appeared every bit as terrifying as the first time Blake had seen her. Raven wasted no time. Her odachi brightened the forest as the Dust blade ignited on the Cheshire's hind leg; either she'd gotten lucky or her experience showed through. The Cheshire screamed in agony and abandoned its attack on the rest of them to concentrate on Raven. It was what she'd wanted. She drew it away.

An arm stopped Yang rushing to her aid. "Get through the portal!" Oobleck shouted.

"Fuck off!" Yang tried to buck from his grip.

"I'll help her. You're wounded. Go!" He pushed her towards the portal, before sprinting off after Raven.

Oobleck was right. Yang's shorts and legs had been drenched by blood running from the slashes on her exposed stomach. Blake couldn't feel her left arm at all, and Sun was favouring one side. None of them were in the condition to fight, and while Raven left the portal open to them, she wouldn't be able to use any to combat the Cheshire.

Blake only had one option. It wasn't the noble one, but it was the smart one. She bundled Yang though the portal before she had a chance to fight back. Sun must have come to the same conclusions, and the moment that he stepped through the gateway vanished.

"What the fuck!" Yang pushed away from her, turning back the way they'd come to find only empty air.

They'd reappeared in the middle of the formation alongside some of the other walking wounded. A few medics were attempting to patch them up while on the move and get them back into the fight. Even with their efforts, Blake estimated they must have lost thirty percent of the force they'd started out with. Their lines were beginning to become stretched.

"You're hurt." Blake tried to sheath Gambol Shroud only to realise that she couldn't. The sheath that she'd laboured over for weeks was lost somewhere in the forest around them. It would be a miracle if it was ever found again. All hunters were attached to their weapons—it was only natural when they relied on them to save their lives—and though she would mourn its loss, she had at least managed to hang onto Gambol Shroud.

"I'm not."

It was such a poor lie that Blake almost laughed. "Look at yourself." Now that she'd a chance to examine the wounds up close, they looked even worse. The torn flesh of Yang's abdomen was ragged and deep. Her Aura might have started to at least limit the blood flow, but it was a miracle that Yang was still standing. Or knowing Yang maybe not. She was too stubborn for her own good.

Yang did glance down then. From the widening of her eyes it appeared that she hadn't even been aware of her injuries. She dragged in a deep breath as she probed them with a finger. "It's nothing."

"Come off it." They didn't have time to argue. Not with what was happening around them. The only reason they were able to was because of people fighting in their stead. There would be no bystanders here. They needed to get back into the fight as quickly as possible.

Sun thrust a medic at Yang, daring her to try and turn down the aid. Thankfully she didn't, even if she didn't look happy about it. Blake was able to turn her attention to her own arm. It hung entirely limp at her side. She touched it and swore internally.

"Dislocated?" Sun asked. He at least still appeared mostly in one piece. Blake nodded. It could have been worse, but it could have been a whole lot better. Even with Aura she wouldn't be using the arm properly for days. "Do you want me to?" Sun mimed a wrenching motion.

Blake closed her eyes. There wasn't any way around it. She nodded. She didn't feel anything at all when Sun's fingers closed on her arm, but she felt when he moved it. Her shoulder flared into agony. He held her still as he made a few final checks.

At least it was over quickly. A single effort from him, using her straightened arm as leverage, popped her shoulder back into its socket. The pain would have dropped her to her knees if he hadn't been holding her upright. It was orders of magnitudes worse than when it had been dislocated in the first place. Still, at least her arm moved now. She directed her Aura into her shoulder. "Thanks," her voice was hoarse from where she'd bitten back her scream, but she was sincere. "What about you?"

"It's nothing. I twisted my ankle on a root. It's fine now."

Blake wasn't too sure whether or not to believe him, but he did seem to be moving better than earlier, and at least he wasn't spilling blood to the ground as Yang had been. She herself impatiently waited with her arms above her head as the medic wrapped bandages around her stomach. If Yang was in pain, she didn't let it show.

A portal opened. Oobleck and Raven jumped through it. They both appeared worse for wear, drenched in blood and gore, but no doubt they'd come out of the fight better than the Cheshire. Raven gave Yang a once over, nodded at Blake, then ran back into the fray.

She was needed. Those seeking treatment in the centre of their formation numbered a significant fraction compared to those trying to hold it. The king of Vacuo had seen how much his troops had been straining. He'd abandoned his position of safety and had moved into the front lines. Where he fought, his soldiers stood strong. Inspired by pride and the desire to protect him. It was heroic. The actions of a ruler who led by example.

Given that display, despite the pain the three of them must have been in, they only needed to share one glance before they joined the fight once more. It was hard going. Blake could only fight one-handed, Yang grimaced every time she had to overstretch herself, and despite their best efforts they were unable to protect all those around them. Their comrades fell. Every injury, every death, was one more they could not afford.

The soldiers who had joined them were some of the best that Vacuo had to offer, but they weren't hunters. They didn't have Auras capable of shrugging off an attack or giving them a second chance. It was all Blake could do to keep the Grimm away from them, but she couldn't be everywhere at once. If she made a mistake others died.

A Deathstalker scattered figures on the opposite side of the loose square. Neptune leapt upon it, his trident arcing with electricity and dripping molten metal from its overuse. He plunged it down at the Deathstalkers eyes. In its crazed spasms its stinger smashed into Neptune ribs, he crumpled under the impact. Qrow and one of the few surviving Janissaries arrived moments later.

Blake didn't have time to see what happened next. Her own section came under renewed assault. All she knew was that the Deathstalker must have been dealt with for they kept moving. It happened time and time again. Their lines were breached, all seeming lost, only for them to rally and repulse the Grimm.

It was relentless. Utterly relentless. Blake had hit the physical limits of her body. She was at the point where pain and exhaustion told her she couldn't go on, where her body told her to give up, to lie down. But then she looked around at all those struggling to survive. The soldiers who were outmatched. Her friends. At Yang whose wounds had leaked through her bandages, but fought on with a grimace on her face. Blake looked at all those whom could only be described as her family and, in that knowledge, she found a way to not let them down.

The forest, the shadowy dominion that had almost proved their demise, finally tapered out. They'd battled their way through it, leaving a trail of bodies behind them. The soft ground that had allowed the trees to grow transitioned to solid sheets of rock. The thousand spires rose into the sky, so close that they could almost touch them. Towers as black as midnight and seemingly without rhyme or reason, the legacy of aberrant volcanic activity.

Remarkable they were, but they didn't capture Blake's attention. As she looked upon them, the sense of wrongness that she'd been living with for weeks pulsated. She might have been imagining it, but she didn't think so. The instinct that had always warned her of the presence of the Grimm—the oily, sickly cloak that settled over shoulders—was infinitely more intense. But not because of the monsters all around her. This was something else. Something more.

The ripple of unease spread through everyone still standing, still capable of feeling, and even the Grimm were affected. They broke off their relentless attack and withdrew until they formed a ring. The truck transporting the bomb ground to a halt.

An uneasy quiet fell, everyone making best use of the respite even if they were unsure as to the reason for it. Deathstalkers, King Taijitus, Ursas, Mogwais, Beowolves, Cheshires, Goliaths, every Grimm Blake could name, and several she couldn't, waited. Even those in the air didn't attack.

Yang edged her way closer and whispered. "What's going on?"

Blake could shake her head. "I don't know." The Grimm weren't motionless, but they didn't follow their instincts and attack either. Some communal impulse kept them in check. It didn't matter. Eventually this truce would break and the Grimm would fall upon them. Surrounded by a solid ring of black, with the stench of the Grimm billowing over them, they wouldn't stand a chance.

"We're boned aren't we?" Somehow Yang made it sound like a joke. Blake could only thank her best friend in the entire world for the effort. Despite the situation she found her lips curling into a smile. Yang's eyes glittered. They'd never looked more beautiful than in this very moment.

"Yeah."

Blake watched her death approach. It wasn't the first time she'd thought that, but all the other times she'd managed to wriggle her way out of it. There would be no escape from this.

Strangely, the thought didn't upset her. Well it did, but not in the usual way, not in the way it always had before. Despite what Yang and Weiss had said, she'd never sought death. At least not how they'd thought she did. And perhaps there had been some truth in that she hadn't quite seen herself from their perspective either.

In the past she'd always thrown herself into the most dangerous scenarios, because she felt it right. The only way to make amends. She had set a low value on her life, simply because that was how she saw herself.

The crimes she'd committed in the White Fang could never be undone. Not one of the people she harmed returned to life. Even with the support of her friends, that had been a hard pill to swallow. One she hadn't. If she could have given her life to save one of those people, she would have done so. But it was impossible. In lieu of that, she'd been forced to settle for the next best thing. To make amends. Somehow.

She'd tried. She really had. Becoming a noble huntress had only been the first step. But despite how many people she saved, it had never been enough. It couldn't have been when she'd never forgiven herself. She'd never been able to. She'd always thought she would have taken her overwhelming guilt to her grave.

Yang had never been able to understand that, but Weiss had. The White Fang had caused Weiss untold misery. Blake had caused Weiss untold misery. And Weiss had forgiven her. Completely. Utterly. She'd absolved Blake of all the crimes that haunted her every night. And not only that, but even Erashan had as well. Perhaps not as gracefully, but he had. They'd both forgiven her and, in doing so, had lifted the burden she'd borne for years. Borne willingly as a penance for something she could never correct.

It was in those moments, confronted by the truth, that Blake had been forced to see herself in the mirror for the first time. See what she'd done to herself. What she'd put herself through for nothing. The past was gone. It was in the past. She could never change what she'd done, but she realised she didn't have to let it control her anymore. She just had to concentrate on the person who she wanted to be.

Perhaps she hadn't had the chance to be that person quite yet. The person who carried on her parents' work in their memory. Who made the lives of Faunus better by means they would have approved of. That had been a lofty ideal. Too lofty.

Instead, as death stood around her, she concentrated on what she had done. She'd made friends, she'd fallen in love. She even had a family. She might not have improved the lives of all Faunus, but she'd improved the lives of the people who knew her. It wasn't a lofty goal but, for the first time in her life, Blake could admit it was enough. In reality, it was all that was needed from anyone.

She looked at Yang, at the person she loved, and she joined in as Yang actually had the audacity to laugh at their situation. Trust Yang to look on the bright side. She grinned as she spoke.

"Well at least it can't get any wors—"

An ear-shattering roar broke the tranquillity and, from the midst of the spires, a colossal shape took to the sky.

 


	25. Chapter 25

"You did what?" Ruby asked, sure that she must have misheard.

"We shattered the moon," Aurora repeated. There wasn't any drama in her tone. She said it as if it were an everyday utterance.

Ruby still wasn't quite able to get her head around the concept. The moon was… well the moon. It had been broken by an asteroid. Everyone knew that. Aurora's words were nonsensical. She was insane. There wasn't any other explanation. Even today, with all the advances of modern rocketry, the moon was out of reach.

Aurora smiled. "I can see you're not convinced. I don't blame you. When I say it like that, it sounds rather farfetched doesn't it? But I'm telling you the truth. When I was a child, Luna was intact." As if on cue the roof of the temple dissolved.

It had been day when she'd entered the temple, but they were greeted by the midnight blue of a cloudless night sky. If not for the fact Ruby's travels had taken her hundreds of miles from any source of artificial light, the countless thousands of stars above would have taken her breath away. As it was, only the moon did.

It was wrong. So wrong. Its outline unbroken. A smooth disk of pale white. No chunks hanging near it. No signs of the calamity. Even the artists' renderings she'd seen before didn't prepare her for the sight. It was like gravity suddenly pulling her sideways; something entirely unnatural.

"She was beautiful, wasn't she?" Aurora looked up wistfully, her face bathed in lunar light. "We weren't the first to worship her, and we weren't even the last. If you pretend we exist in the time I was born, out there," she swept her arm around, "there are hundreds of individual tribes who all do the same. We'd driven many away from our lands, but many more fell to the Grimm. That's why we acted. Do you know what Luna is? What she's made from?"

Weiss would have known. Ruby was sure of that. But she didn't. Not really. She hazarded a guess. "Umm… rock."

"You would think so. You're right, partially at least, but not entirely. I told you before, this," she indicated the Aether, "came from the sky."

"The moon's made of Dust?" It was hard to comprehend. Dust came from underground. Even children knew that. It didn't come from space.

"Yes."

"It can't be."

"I've experienced that reaction before. I even had it when I was first told, but I could believe. The Aether had been a gift from the heavens. Surely there must have been more."

"If Dust comes from the moon, how do you explain the mines?" Ruby couldn't overcome that contradiction.

"Dust is mined that's true, but the mines a recent invention." Aurora smiled to herself. "At least for me. For thousands of years before that mankind simply didn't have the capability to dig so deep. We didn't have the technology. The knowhow. Do you have any idea how deep the mines actually are? How tricky it is to mine the resource everyone relies on? There's a reason why Faunus labour is used almost exclusively. As deplorable as it is, they are the only ones with the physicality to work them.

"For as long as Remnant has existed there has been Dust as its centre, but it simply wasn't accessible. The Grimm slaughtered us because we didn't have the ability to fight them. We changed that."

"But… but…" It was too big. In a patient tone Aurora had explained that most of what Ruby had always known, what their society was founded around, was completely misunderstood.

Aurora's eyes glittered as she watched Ruby go through yards and yards of rationalisation. "I'm sure most people would share your reaction." That fact didn't make it any easier.

"How is any of this even possible? How could you blow up the moon? Especially back then ̶ ̶ now… Whenever!" Ruby still wasn't quite sure when  _now_  actually was.

"By myself it wouldn't have been. There were seven of us. Seven people. Perhaps not remarkable individuals. Shepherds, seamstresses, beggars, priestesses, and priests, but each had a gift. In a time before Semblances were commonplace we kept them hidden, but we found each other. And as we looked out at the world, at all that we were doing in our hopeless quest to tame it, we knew we had to do more.

"It was the perfect confluence that to this day I can't believe was entirely coincidental. Missing a single one of us, we would have failed; it wouldn't have been possible. But with us united, we were able to ensure the survival of humanity."

Aurora smiled wistfully, but Ruby was becoming more and more frustrated. This rambling explanation didn't seem close to arriving at the point, nor did it explain just why she had been pulled into this imaginary place in the first place.

"But what did you do?"

"We committed treason, or heresy, or any other number of crimes. The Aether was the first and largest shard of Dust in the world but, even ignoring its size, it was unique. Unlike the other pieces of Dust that fell from the sky, it had not had its makeup stained by its descent. Instead it remained pure, white. That should be a clue."

"It should?" Ruby asked, slowly raising an eyebrow.

"It should. Dust is an energy sink, I'm sure you know that. If the Aether didn't absorb energy, then I wouldn't be able to accurately describe it as Dust. Dust takes on the colours that everyone is aware of, yet the Aether didn't. Though it still absorbed energy. Some of the rituals we practiced here involved setting it alight; it would glow a brilliant incarnadine, before fading to white. But it always faded. That was only a sign of just how very special it was.

"In our roles in this building, two of us had studied it intensely. We didn't know about Dust, not back then, but we had stories of where the Aether had come from. We knew what it had done for our home. We wanted to share that with the world.

"It was arrogance of the highest order, but we were arrogant. So arrogant. We believed ourselves special. We could do incredible things. Things that elevated ourselves above all others. We looked at Luna, we looked at a god, and we decided to take matters into our own hands.

"In the many sessions of prayer, I'd noticed my Semblance became stronger in this room. The same was true for Auras. Some people were miraculously healed if they spent a night in this room. It was magic. If we were actually here, you would be able to feel it as well. The Aether acts as a resonator. By tapping into it, we could become more. Do things that should have been impossible. We could change the world, and we did.

"We looked up at the sky. The seven of us, and we smote a god. Titania allowed us to share our thoughts, to act as one combined being. Dolos changed our bodies so we could sustain the rigours of what we were doing to them. That we still do. He infused our bodies with that which we were using. None of us had expected to survive. It was because of him we did. That we still do. Ioséphus enhanced the resonance, allowed us to infuse the Aether with pure Aura. It released a power unmatched to this very day. The power Cinder used to crack a moon. Juno provided the bridge to make it happen, and Ozpin guided our hand."

There were a lot of names that Ruby didn't recognise, but some she did. However, Aurora had missed one. "What did you do?"

Aurora raised her hand and looked at it. Her fingers twitched as if a phantom sensation brushed over them. "I was the link to the Aether."

"Ok… so let's say I believe you, and you really did blow up the moon." As she said it Ruby became aware of just how ridiculous she sounded. But then again she was talking to someone who professed to be an immortal in the middle of a long dead city. "You still haven't told me why, or why you're telling me all this?" She'd had to fight for every crumb of information about the  _Pantheon,_  and now Aurora was shoving loaf after loaf down her throat, but none of it made sense.

"I did tell you why. This city was allowed to rise, to cast its shadow over the land, because of this. The Aether. For the first time our people had noticeable Auras. Have you never wondered why they have become so much stronger over the years? Why so many people have Semblances?"

Ruby hadn't. She'd just assumed it was for the same reasons that people were taller and healthier; there was more food available, and children no longer grew up malnourished. "Not really."

"It's because of Dust. Dust, Aura, Semblances, your soul, they're all linked. Here was the first time that people were exposed to Dust, exposed to it properly. It was said to be good luck to lay a newly born child by the shrine during the first day of their life. People came here once a month or more. Pregnant women were blessed here. The Aether played a vital part all through their lives. And in response, the strength of their Auras grew, children born here developed magical abilities, Semblances, and we owed it all to the Aether.

"Of course, these days it's different. You don't worship Dust, but you are exposed to it more than we ever were. The modern world uses it in unfathomable quantities. For a child growing up in a city, there is no point where they are more than a dozen feet from Dust. These days, it is ingrained in their very lives. Even the weakest Aura today is stronger than the majority of the strongest from Ephesus. And then there are people like you who can shrug off bullets because, from the moment of your conception, you have been surrounded by Dust."

Ruby ran her tongue over her teeth as she tried to process what she'd been told. It might have been the truth. Aurora definitely seemed sincere, but Ruby just didn't know. More than anything she wished that Weiss was by her side. If anyone in the world knew everything there was to know about Dust, it was Weiss. She would have been able to ask all the right questions. To be able to tell if Aurora was correct or not. As it was, Ruby just had to guess. It sounded plausible. Dust was special, and if people could use it with their Semblances, then maybe they were linked in more ways.

"We succeeded," Aurora continued after a brief pause. "We shattered the moon. And in the weeks and months that followed, fire rained from the sky. We hadn't expected to survive, and we were still suffering in our new bodies. But as we watched what we'd unleashed, we'd thought we'd destroyed us all in our arrogance.

"It was a global event. The first global event. All over the world people looked up to see night turn to day, to see the moon flash, and then break into pieces. Of course most didn't understand. How could they when we barely did ourselves? Those events inspired hundreds of different legends. Of jealous suns and falling tears. The reality was so much simpler.

"The pieces of the moon, the pieces that contained Dust, fell over the entirety of the planet. Much like we did, those who saw the shards land, went to them, and they worshipped them. They protected them. Their latent Auras were awakened. And over the years, generations where the pieces continued to fall. People were exposed to more and more Dust. They gradually began to understand how to use it. They grew stronger. Strong enough to make a stand. Strong enough to survive. Within decades our work should have been done, but we made a mistake. A mistake that hounded us for millennia, right up until this very day."

"What was it?" Ruby asked. Even if this wasn't true, Aurora was an exemplary storyteller. Ruby hung on her every word.

"The Grimm. We thought them monsters. We were wrong. They are so much more than that. The Grimm share many of the habits that animals do, but they are not animals for they lack a soul. They shouldn't be able to exist. Without a soul a body will wither and die. Do you know what the Grimm eat?"

"People." Ruby suppressed a shudder. She'd seen it first-hand more times than she could count, and not one of the memories failed to make her hate herself for not being strong enough to stop it.

"Well yes, but that's not quite what I meant. Do you know what the Grimm  _need_  to eat? The answer is nothing. You can lock one in a cage for a decade and it won't starve. The energy we get from food, they get from another source."

That at least was true. The Grimm didn't need to eat people. They just did it because it was fun. Even though the outcome was the same, it was somehow worse. If the Grimm needed sustenance, she could have perhaps understood them. They would just have been part of the natural food chain and perhaps higher up it than people. But they weren't. They existed separately, and chose to kill anyway.

To her knowledge no one was aware of just what the Grimm needed to survive. There were plenty of theories, but they were just that, theories. No one had been able to prove anything.

"That source is one that you are intimately familiar with, and we have already discussed. Did you ever wonder why every colour of Dust exists except black? It should do, shouldn't it? And yet, you'll find no shops that sell it, nor veins of it underground, but it does exist. The Grimm are the physical manifestation of it."

With one word after another, Aurora turned Ruby's world on its head. The Grimm were the Grimm. They couldn't be made of Dust. They were vicious beasts, not crystals. And yet, Aurora was certain in her proclamation. After everything she'd already revealed, she was either entirely deluded or had a greater understanding of the world than almost anyone. At the moment, despite how farfetched it was, Ruby was leaning towards the latter. Still, Ruby would have been the first to admit she wasn't the most academic person in the world, but she could see a flaw.

"You're saying the Grimm are Dust, but you also said the whole reason you did all that with the Aether was because of the Grimm. That they existed before."

"So did Dust." Aurora crouched down and placed her hand against the flagstones. The rock blurred beneath Ruby's vision, its definition becoming indistinguishable. The very grains seemed to shift and come alive. When Aurora rose, a tiny crystal sat in her outstretched palm. "Dust exists in everything around us. In the air you breathe, in the food you eat, and in the dirt walk on. You'll have to trust me that I could do the same to anything in the real world. The particles of Dust are so insignificant that they're unusable, but they still react to our presence even if you don't realise it.

"So you were right. The Grimm did exist before, but only in small numbers. There wasn't enough Dust on the surface of the planet to sustain more than that. That didn't mean they weren't a threat though. A single Deathstalker could kill an entire tribe with no one strong or skilled enough to stop it. They were driving the world to extinction. We had to act, but afterwards, after the smoke had settled, we saw the fallacy of our actions.

"As more people began using Dust, as their Aura and Semblances began to awaken, so did the Grimm. Where before there were solitary Beowolves, now there were hordes. We had only succeeded in making things worse.

"It's the cruellest irony. Mankind needs Dust to survive, to be able to fight back, but by using it, they enable the very thing they are fighting against. Only in modern times have the advances in weaponry outweighed the harm that Dust does. It obeys the same laws as the rest of the universe. The process of using it is not one hundred percent efficient. Every time you've turned on a Dust-powered lamp, somewhere, you have fed a Grimm."

Ruby's mouth fell agape. "Why didn't you tell anybody!" All the times she had left a light on, or not bothered to turn the TV off, came back to her. Like most, though she tried, she had never really been all that concerned about wasting a little bit of power. Now Aurora was telling her that all that time, all throughout her life, she'd been aiding the Grimm? Multiplied by the planet, it was unimaginable.

"Because no one would care. We tried in the past. It didn't work. While Dust exists on the planet, people will use it. They are selfish. If the Grimm are far away they don't care about the consequences."

"Some would have."  _She would have._

"Yes they would. And they would have been have outnumbered by orders of magnitude." For the first time some anger, or maybe frustration, slipped through Aurora's pleasant demeanour. "You cannot change the fundamental nature of humanity. Take that from extensive experience."

Aurora blew out a breath, her shoulders slumping. Walking to the side of the hall she sat down and patted the bench next to her. After a moment of hesitation Ruby took a seat. Aurora straightened invisible creases in her dress and continued.

"We did what we thought best. I would like to pretend we were truly ignorant of the nature of the Grimm. We weren't. We knew. Or at least suspected. The Aether was linked to something. It was the only way it could remain pure. When we used it, we reinforced that link. We took the Aether into our bodies, infused it to our very souls, and connected them to the thing on the other side."

"What was it?"

"We didn't know at the time. We do now. It's a Grimm, the most terrible Grimm. One which could devour cities, and it has fed off of the last remnants of the Aether in our bodies for millennia. At least in that we kept it sated. It remained dormant. Far out of danger. Its spawn were not.

"When we saw what we had done. As the hordes of Grimm rose up all over the world. As they became stronger. As they aged. We knew we had not done enough. We conspired to save humanity from the certain doom we had created. We would guide them to a better future.

"Ruby, I want you to know that everything you found out while digging around in those ruins was completely right. There has been a group controlling directing the development of society. You're looking at one of the members. With your permission I would like to introduce you to two of my friends."

Despite the situation, despite the grim portents that Aurora had revealed, Ruby basked in the words. She had been right. All along. In those few words, Aurora had vindicated the two years Ruby had spent alone in the wilderness. It was a weight lifted off her shoulders.

After that, even the alarm bells that Aurora's offer set ringing failed to bring Ruby down. After all the time they'd spent talking, however many minutes or hours had passed, she didn't think that Aurora was out to hurt her. There would have been no reason to reveal everything. And if she was, given the power that she likely had at her command, Ruby knew that she would be helpless before her. Two more all-powerful gods didn't increase the danger overly much. Plus, she was curious. "Sure."

"Thank you." By the look on her face Aurora really meant it. She rose, and Ruby got up after her.

Two people walked through the door. Unlike Aurora they weren't wearing clothes that fit their surroundings. The tallest wore a strange dress, its skirt shredded until it was little more than a hundred ribbons. In her dark hair she wore a circlet that could be described as nothing more than a crown. It glowed as brightly as the crystal of Dust. The other was shorter, wearing a comfortable cardigan and jeans.

"This is Juno," Aurora indicated the shorted woman who nodded in Ruby's direction, "and this is my very special friend Titania. It is because of her we're all here together."

"Not quite all." Titania's voice surprised Ruby. From her dress she had expected her to have a fae-like tone. Unburdened and carefree. Instead, she sounded almost like Weiss did when she gave formal speeches. Regal. Like a Queen.

"What?" Aurora asked. For the first time off-balance. From the look of her Juno hadn't expected this either.

"There is one more who must join us."

Another figure entered. As their eyes locked, Ruby's heart stopped. She managed to breathe out a single word through the gates of her frozen lungs.

"Mum?"

 


	26. Chapter 26

Yang knew she should never have given in to the urge to open her mouth. She should have shoved her fist in it instead. And then the rest of her arm just to make sure. She'd challenged the most fundamental law of the universe; things could always get worse.

The roar didn't feel much like sound. It bypassed her ears directly and instead reverberated in the organs in her chest. But it wasn't the volume that caused Yang's knees to tremble. It was the feeling that accompanied it.

As the Grimm soared skywards—its outline silhouetted against the sun—a primal sensation threatened to overpower her. Fear. Pure fear. The fear that her earliest ancestors must have experienced as they realised they were prey.

It would have been conceited in the extreme for Yang to claim she didn't get scared. She did. All the time in fact. Over the past two years she'd been terrified of every imagined scenario that Ruby might have been in. Yang had been scared of exams. Scared of finally giving into temptation and asking someone out. Of what would have happened if her dad's drinking had got out into the open.

In her life, Yang had been scared of many things, but the Grimm had rarely been a source of terror for her. She'd always trusted her own skills. Now, looking at the Grimm above her, the largest Grimm she'd ever seen, her confidence melted. Against that, she was nothing.

The dragon stretched its black and red-veined wings. It dwarfed all the Nevermores in the sky. It dwarfed everything. It was so large that Yang had trouble comprehending just how it was able to stay in the air. Its wingspan might have blocked out the sun, but even so.

"That's… not going to fit on my wall." In the unnatural silence that had followed the roar, Yang could hear Port perfectly. In his lessons he'd always taught that the Goliaths were the largest of the Grimm. Now Yang saw just how wrong he'd been. The dragon's skull was likely the size of his entire house if not larger. If Port had only joined them to get a new decoration, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

The dragon flapped its wings, hovering in place hundreds of feet above them. It unleashed a second roar. One that was somehow even louder than the first and, this time, the Grimm all around them made noise as well. The combination of roars, screeches, and howls almost dropped Yang to her knees. They were surrounded by the pure embodiment of hate.

The roar was the signal that all the Grimm had been waiting for. As the dragon plummeted downwards, the rest of the Grimm charged forward through the mist. Yang gritted her teeth, the pain of her wounds fading to the back of mind. This was it. There were too many Grimm surrounding them and not enough of their expedition remaining to hold them back. The only certainty Yang had was that, when it came to it, she would go down fighting. From the grimace on Blake's face, she thought the same.

Yang could only regret that she had ultimately brought them all to this outcome. It was an idle wish, but she wished she had chosen differently. That she had seen Ruby again. Told her she loved her one last time. The message she had recorded would have to suffice.

It was the strange nature of adrenaline; Yang could contemplate all her poor choices and regrets while the Grimm still closed. Adrenaline didn't actually make time slow down, it just seemed like it did. A Beowolf ran straight at her, plunging through the mist that almost obscured it from sight.

_Wait…_  Yang's brain finally made the connection between the water vapour hanging in the air on a sunny day, and just what it was likely preceding. She threw up an arm. It didn't help. Her flesh only blocked the light from her eyes. It couldn't stop the heat or the impact that slammed into her.

All around them, the mist that had gathered detonated. Seeded with Red Dust, and who knew what else, it erupted into a conflagration hundreds of feet in diameter with a miniscule safe spot in the middle. So hot that the flames almost glowed white. Yang knew that the only reason her skin hadn't been charred black was the protective patch of mist in front of her glowing blue.

The Grimm weren't so lucky. The crackling reverberation of the inferno was so intense that their screams wouldn't have been audible to even Blake. The wall of fire in front of her twitched, then it began to spin and rise upwards.

A tornado formed. A blue-white tornado with them in the very eye. In a fraction of a second they were surrounded by a spinning conflagration, and it didn't stop climbing. The sides arched over them and came together in the middle, forming a dome.

A Grimm roared, somehow making itself heard. It could only have been the dragon. Encased by fire they were protected from its wrath. They might have been shielded from the Grimm, but soon enough their defence would prove its own problem. The small shelter of blue Dust did nothing for the air temperature. It seared down Yang's throat and burned her nose. The fires stripped the air of oxygen, and she could barely drag in enough to function.

And yet, still Velvet poured more heat into the flames. More Dust. She must have had a special supply because, although Velvet had terrified Yang time and time again, this was by far the most impressive things she had ever witnessed. With an effort of will, her friend had stopped a horde of the Grimm dead, but then again she wasn't alone.

Cinder stood next to her, both glowing with the light of Dust, their hair whipping around their heads in the winds they'd created. Both looked imperious, but Cinder more so. Her skin shone bright white and her eyes were aflame. She brought her hands together over her head, and the dome responded.

At its very top, the fires began combining. They began to take on the appearance of something that was almost solid. The curtain of fire lifted from the melted ground and the entirety of it was absorbed into the shape that started to emerge. Made of white and blue flames, it was a shape that Yang recalled from the festival in Vale. Directly above her, a dragon spread its fiery wings. It was an exact replica of the Grimm one, so much so that Yang was certain that Cinder had based her creation on it.

The two dragons collided in a flurry of flashing claws and fangs. The fact they could collide at all proved the density of the flames. Her dragon wasn't just an image, it had substance to it. The pair of them twirled in the sky, latching on and kicking with their clawed legs, attempting to disembowel each other.

It was the natural instinct from the Grimm, but it wouldn't serve any purpose. Cinder's creation had no flesh to rend, no guts to expose to air. Where the Grimm's claws pierced, it only succeeded in gouging out chunk of almost solid flame, the wounds were quickly filled. The Grimm seemed to be the strongest of the pair. Its wings directed their tussle, but it was simply unable to hurt something that had no nerves. With a push, it kicked its opponent away into a Nevermore that had strayed too close to the fight. The bird burned—its feathers turning to ash just from the proximity—and it tumbled from the sky.

The Grimm dragon used the brief respite to think. No Grimm could have grown to that size without having been alive for who knew how long, and with age came intelligence. It realised it couldn't win in a fight against a beast that didn't really exist, and it managed to connect the dots between the other dragon and the two glowing figures on the ground.

It roared, and all the Grimm that had been brought to a standstill by the initial formation of the fire received their purpose again. Across the melted rock and past the blackened corpses of those that had been caught in the inferno, they charged at the small group in the centre.

There weren't as many Grimm as there had been. The fastest and most eager had been incinerated, but that only meant the approaching Grimm were some of the largest, or those that had been clever enough to hang back.

Bracing herself, Yang longed for another eruption of fire. It wouldn't come. Velvet and Cinder were entirely occupied dealing with the largest threat. With the dragon free to attack, it would likely kill them in moments. In comparison, the rest of the Grimm should be easy.

Yang leapt aside from the rolling attack of a Boarbatusk Matriarch. Despite its size and the razor-sharp tusks, Boarbatusks were among the easiest Grimm to deal with. In the act of dodging, Yang dealt a light blow to one knee. Its legs got tangled up and it slammed to the ground, sliding across the rock. Blake pounced on the Grimm before it stopped, sinking her blade into its vulnerable stomach; it keened piteously as she gutted it.

Leaving Blake to the gruesome task, Yang turned away just in time to see the claw of a Deathstalker crunch into the chest of a soldier. He dropped as though he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. The soldiers just weren't prepared for this. Nor had they been capable in the first place. They should never have been brought. Without melee weapons or strong Auras, they were just too vulnerable. The hunters could at least cope. All the soldiers had done was make up the numbers and leave a string of corpses behind them.

A Deathstalker larger than any she'd seen before ploughed into their formation, sending figures flying. One of the figures wore black and red.

"Mum!" Yang wasn't conscious of the scream leaving her mouth. She wasn't conscious of anything, apart from the fact Raven was in danger.

Firing at the ground behind her to gain some momentum, Yang flew at the Grimm. She landed a two-punch combo into the Deathstalker; her attack didn't do any real damage, but she didn't expect it to. All she wanted was to distract the Grimm from the person who'd burrowed further into her heart than she cared to admit.

It worked. A stinger whipped towards her face. She spun to the side, throwing her fist at one of the vulnerable poison sacks. The shock reverberated up her arm as the flesh gave way. Ichor spurted out. There weren't many vulnerable points on a Deathstalker, but that was one of them. Yang could only be thankful that she'd had so much practice in the deserts.

Still, a Deathstalker, especially one this size, was a two-man job. She had to give ground beneath a flurry of blows from its claws. She couldn't block, not really, only retreat. At this point Blake would normally make use of the distraction, but she was nowhere to be seen, and Raven still hadn't risen. With her fists up in a boxer's guard, Yang kept the Grimm's attention, dashing in and out.

The soldiers around tried to help, shooting where they could, but their rounds just ricocheted into the sky. A grey-black blur arrived. Qrow's scythe ripped straight into the appendage that held the stinger and out the other side. The Deathstalker recoiled in pain, and Yang hammered hits to its eyes, cracking the armour. Qrow took off a leg, then a claw just before it struck her. Yang concentrated on her task, getting closer and closer to its tiny brain. Blood spurted. The Grimm twitched, and then it went still.

The moment it wasn't a danger any longer, they both darted towards Raven. Seeing her go down, Yang had expected the worst. For nothing more than a broken husk to be on the ground. For her to have the lost the person she had been so slowly reconnecting with. Raven would never replace Summer. She didn't deserve to. But she was still special to Yang.

Her racing heart froze in an instant. Raven's form was still. Qrow slid to a stop beside her. Yang didn't. Even in the middle of a furious battle, she couldn't move. Not until Raven coughed and spat did the captured breath escaped from her lungs. Raven didn't look good as she staggered to her feet, but at least she was still able to rise. And, judging by the look on her face, to fight.

She nodded her thanks to Yang, smiling in her direction, and then she and Qrow took off to engage the next target. Yang should have done the same as well, but her fear-fuelled exertions had left her lungs empty and her stomach burning. The Cheshire's claw marks stung like fire. The bandages that had been hastily wrapped around her stomach were crimson. It hurt enough that she wanted to cry—every movement was agony—but in the midst of all this, she couldn't give in to her self-pity. Every moment she spent complaining of her wounds was one where someone else was dying because of it.

She turned back to the battle. Though it barely felt like they'd been fighting for more than a few seconds, but the ground was littered with bodies. Unlike in the forest or the beach, there were as many black corpses as those of other colours.

The only reason Blake hadn't come to her aid was because she'd been busy dealing with a King Taijitu. Taiyang filled in as her partner. Even when they took it down, it wouldn't be enough. The Grimm were everywhere and all intent on doing one thing.

An Ursa slipped through their broken lines and lunged towards Cinder and Velvet. Mercury met it with a flying leap, his shotgun-enhanced kick diverting it from its course. Emerald arrived a moment later.

A Cheshire pounced upon Neptune, growling and hissing, trapping his weapon between their bodies. Neptune desperately tried to keep its teeth from his face. It was a losing battle. Little by little, the Grimm overpowered him. Yang was too far away to help, and so were his teammates.

Seeing one of his old students in danger, Port shoulder charged an Ursa out of the way, and crunched his axe into the Cheshire's side. It wasn't enough. Enraged, out of control, the Grimm ignored the light wound. Port tried again. The armoured plate cracked, but it didn't give.

He threw aside his weapon and wrapped his arms around the Grimm. With a slow and steady pressure, he pulled the Grimm away. It snapped its jaws at Neptune's face. So close, and yet so far. Port hauled it off Neptune entirely, but didn't let go. He couldn't. The Grimm writhed in his grasp, its tail whipping out, its legs flashing. The muscles in his arms bulged, showing a definition that hadn't been lost because of his age.

Neptune faced the same problem that Port had moments before. With the Cheshire in a bear hug, he couldn't attack without risking his saviour. Port began to shout, to roar. The tendons in his neck straining, beating at the surface of his skin. The Cheshire must have weighed at least five hundred pounds, and he held it in the air, crushing it against his body.

The Grimm twisted in his grasp, trying to sink its teeth into his skull. He ran out of breath shouting wordlessly again, putting all of his exertions into the cry. The unceasing pressure took its toll. With one final heave, the Cheshire's spine snapped as if it were an overstrung bow. Its lower half went limp, and Port let it drop. He stood, his eyes glazed, staring at the sky, a smile forming on his lips. A content smile. Dark grey coils of intestines slipped from beneath his rent shirt, sliding down his legs. He remained standing for a moment longer, before he fell atop the Grimm that had killed him.

Witnessing the death of one of her old teachers should have shocked Yang. It didn't. She'd seen so much. Seen so much death. Port was just another name on the list of those she would mourn if a miracle happened and they ever got out of this. Or another she would see soon if they didn't.

Port hadn't seemed upset at the end. Yang could never have imagined him dying in bed. Not with all the stories he'd told. The thrill of battle was what he'd lived for. He'd made the choice to save one last person in a life spent helping people. It had cost him his own but, somehow, Yang knew he would have thought it worth it.

All around her people were making similar sacrifices. Putting their own lives in danger to help others. Yang saw acts of the deepest heroism time and time again. She was surrounded by heroes locked in a desperate struggle against the Grimm; but as bad as it was, the battle below was nothing in scale compared to the one above.

The Grimm dragon and Cinder's creation still tussled in the sky. Two bodies larger than buildings crashing together time and time again. The Grimm had the advantage in the positional sense; it was free to roam while Cinder's dragon had to stay near to guard her. But it couldn't hurt something made entirely of flame, and that's where it was relying on its brethren.

One of the Goliaths neared in its slow, plodding gait, getting ever closer. No one on the ground had the firepower to take one down. Some of the soldiers tried, directing the last of their grenades at its head. The explosions and shrapnel had no effect on one of the oldest Grimm in existence. Everyone realised any resistance was ultimately futile. The Goliaths would smash their formation without even attacking. They could just walk over them. Even so, no one suggested giving up. They'd fight until the moment they no longer could.

Cinder realised this and realised the danger they were all in. Her dragon leapt upwards, going for the other's throat. It backed off, sending billows of foul air downwards as it flapped its wings. The feint gave Cinder the opening she needed.

Her dragon twisted and plummeted to earth. It swooped low enough over their formation that the temperature skyrocketed and the heat ripped the air from Yang's lungs. The core of its body had to have been several thousand degrees at least. With outstretched talons it struck the head of the nearest Goliath. A titanic force met an immovable object. The force won.

The Goliaths were big, huge even—they were several stories tall and dwarfed everything around—but the dragon was colossal. Blue-white claws plunged through hardened flesh. Such was the momentum of its sweeping attack that it pulled the Goliath onto its hind legs and then toppled it over backwards. The ground trembled as it landed, its face in smouldering ruins. In a fraction of a heartbeat, Cinder and Velvet had managed to kill one the most deadly Grimm around.

But it had come at a price. Realising it had been tricked, the Grimm dragon had turned tail and leapt to attack. As Cinder's raced to intercept, it altered its course and opened its maw. It might have been a dragon, but fire didn't erupt. Instead darkness spewed forth. A darkness that embodied the very concept of the Grimm.

The thick, foul liquid, sprayed over a swathe of the combatants. They died. Horribly. The vitriol clung to their armour, to their skin, and ate through it. Men and Grimm screamed in absolute agony. Clawing at their faces, ripping their skin off to spare themselves the pain, but only succeeding on spreading it to their hands. The last remaining Janissary collapsed, the plate metal armour proving no match for the acid. Even the solid rock beneath belched forth smoke and gas. In just a few seconds nothing recognisable as living tissue remained, and at least a quarter of Yang's comrades had been snuffed out. Soldiers or hunters, it hadn't mattered. Not before the power of the Grimm.

The people nearest stumbled backwards, forgetting they were in the middle of a fight, intent on just getting away from the horror that had been unleashed. The lines—which had barely resembled such any more—collapsed and the Grimm rushed in.

Yang raced to reinforce them, thrilled to see Blake fall into step next to her. In the fight she'd committed the cardinal sin and had lost track of her partner. They arrived together, and struck three times as hard because of it.

Her fists batted aside the swipe of a Beowolf and delivered a bone-crunching blow to its jaw. Blake parried an attack to her right and struck back. The pair of them held their ground, an island of fortitude in an ocean of turmoil, but the Grimm were just too many and the defenders too few. In the melee the only way Yang could find the room to swing her fists was to take one step back, and then another, and another. Every time she swore to herself she wouldn't cede any more ground, but before long her back was pressed up against the tracks of the truck.

Under the weight of the Grimm, their defensive formation had dissolved entirely. Only a handful of the soldiers remained. The hunters left standing formed a ring around the bomb, Cinder, and Velvet, desperately trying to hold on.

They were holding, just. The soldiers and the other hunters who'd fallen had done so because, for the most part, they'd found themselves lacking. Those remaining were the strongest, the most experienced. But even skill could only carry a person so far.

They'd been fighting for what felt like days. Every time Yang managed to defeat one Grimm another jumped into the gap. She struggled to find the energy to carry on. The muscles in her arms shook, strained and stretched. Her punches lacked power. Her legs were weak, stained with the blood from the open wounds on her stomach, her head spun. The solid rock of the ground was unsteady beneath her.

Blake was hardly any better. There were numerous cuts and gashes littering her body, her clothes in ruins. Qrow's face was pale, a broken arm held tight against his torso, but still he fought, wielding his scythe with a single hand. No one had come out of the fight unscathed. Everyone was wounded just like her, and yet, no one had given in. They all fought on regardless of the severity of their wounds. They knew to give in to the pain was to give up on life. To leave their comrades vulnerable. Some people might have tried to save themselves at another's expense, but no one became a hunter out of selfish reasons. At this moment, everyone would have preferred to die than to let down a friend, and that was exactly what gave Yang the energy to fight on.

Above them, Cinder's dragon pursued the Grimm, opening its own jaws. Even the sun dimmed as a cone of impossibly hot substance shot forth. It turned the very air to plasma. The Grimm dodged aside, and in doing so strayed too close. Jaws of fire clamped down on its tail.

The Grimm screamed in pain, the cry as shrill as a sword being drawn over metal. It beat its wings, attempting to throw Cinder's beast loose. It didn't work. Locked in battle, they twisted and dived. It was a strange dance, each striking out with claws, with fangs, with their wings. They rose higher until they were but specs in the sky.

The Grimm only wanted to get away from the burning heat. It couldn't. The tail of Cinder's dragon wrapped around both their bodies, pinning them together. In the embrace of the inferno, the Grimm went mad. They fought in a terrible silence, save for the impacts they dealt each other. From point-blank range they unleashed the power of their breaths. Utter darkness and unbearable light coalesced, a curtain of fire and acid raining down upon the island of Menagerie.

The Grimm dragon might have been terrible, it might have been the most powerful being in existence and the bane of civilization, but it was still a creature of flesh and blood. It still lived. Its adversary didn't. The acid may have ripped away at chunks of its body, but they were soon renewed. The fire it belched forth did far more damage.

As the Grimm recoiled, Cinder's dragon latched on to the back of its neck. Its molten fangs dug in deep, and it wrapped its wings around the pair of them. Entwined, they plummeted. Growing larger and larger with every heartbeat, the Grimm's actions became frantic as it tried to fight free. Cinder's didn't let it. Her dragon rode it ever downwards.

Blazing as they were, they were like a meteor the size of districts. The crash of the impact sent tremors racing through the solid rock. The ground shook violently. Not one person or beast managed to keep their footing in the earthquake.

The noise rolled over them a moment later. A deep boom accompanied by a cloud of stinging dust that gouged its way into eyes. Yang didn't want to climb to her feet. Now that she was on the soft rock, all she wanted to do was sleep, but she forced herself up. The desperate battle had been stilled by the impact of the two dragons, even the Grimm had paused.

A shape emerged from the crater. A shape whose light shone through the clouds of particles. Whose burning incandescence banished the darkness of the Grimm. Cinder's dragon stood upon its fallen foe and, with the crackling of the hottest furnace, roared its triumph to the heavens.

 


	27. Chapter 27

Air simply refused to enter Ruby's lungs. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't blink. Couldn't do anything but stare and try to fathom the impossible truth of who was standing before her. The memories she had of her mother were hazy, muted by both age and grief. When she thought of her mother she didn't necessarily see a face, but more felt the warmth and the love that Summer had shown towards her. In her mind, her mum was an ideal.

Ruby wanted to believe. She wanted to believe so much it hurt. The woman standing before her was draped in a white cloak, the cut of which was identical to the red one she had treasured for so long. Her face was identical both to Ruby's memories and the photos which always caused her heart to twist. The woman looked exactly like her mum. It was impossible.

The woman smiled and, in that moment, Ruby knew. The sheer love in the simple expression wasn't an act. It couldn't have been faked. You could fake the smile, the look, but you couldn't fake the eyes. In those silver portals, Ruby saw the truth. The woman loved her with all her heart. The woman loved her like a mother.

Ruby's knees almost gave way. It was impossible, but she didn't care. With unsteady steps she rushed forwards. Summer retreated, holding up her hands.

"Ruby, wait." The voice. It was the voice that had read her so many bedtime stories, that had brought her the vitally important news that cookies were ready, that had told her how special she was so often. And yet, though the warmth in the words was overpowering, the greeting was not. The tone was cautionary. Ruby slowed, coming to a stop just a few feet from her mum.

"Ruby," Summer's jaw trembled. "I don't want you to get your hopes up. To get the wrong idea." She took the deep breath of someone knowing they were about to hurt the person they loved. "I'm dead. I died. That hasn't changed. I'm sorry."

"Oh…" Was that really the only response she could muster? The only vocalisation of her feelings that her body was capable of? It was a single word, and barely one at that! Almost more just a meaningless exclamation. But it wasn't meaningless. No one who had heard it would have thought, for even one second, that it was meaningless. The single word broke Summer's heart as much as it broke Ruby's.

Knowing it was impossible, knowing the facts, she shouldn't have expected differently. Believed differently. Hoped with all her heart differently. She should have known that her mum was dead. That no one could rise from the grave, but it was also a lie to say she knew all the facts surrounding her mum's death.

She had been too young, too unwilling to listen to Yang's or her dad's explanation. At the instantaneous moment of seeing her mum standing in front of her—so close, so real—everything she had been told had been wrong. Her mum hadn't died on a hunt. She had been injured. Or captured. Or gotten amnesia. A hundred different possibilities that all would have meant her mum was still alive. Like all foolish hopes of little girls, they'd just been crushed.

"Then what are you?" Ruby hadn't meant for anger to seep into her words, but bodies rarely listen to rationality in times like these.

The daggers sunk home, but Summer bore them. Only the slightest twitch giving her pain away. Ruby's stomach churned at the sight. "I…" Summer looked down at her hand, twisting it before her. It appeared just like anyone else's. "I don't know. I don't understand any of this. A ghost maybe? A spirit? All I know is that I'm here. And that I'm me."

It was only after she said it that Summer seemed to realise how ridiculous she sounded. The expression that appeared on her face was one that had appeared on Ruby's numerous times. A slight biting of the lower lip, a widening of the eyes. It was just another piece of evidence as to who she was. It was almost as if Ruby were staring into a slightly older mirror. She'd always been told that she looked like her mum, but she had never imagined it was true to this extent.

Ruby believed her. It might have been a trick but, even if it was, it was preferable to be fooled. To allow herself this comfort, however fleeting it may prove. "How are you here?"

Summer shook her head again, almost near tears. "I don't know that either. Just her…" She pointed to Titania.

The appearance of her mum had somewhat distracted Ruby from the rest of the people who had appeared with her. Titania stood tall and, unlike the other two women, didn't seem confused or on edge. She spoke in that same regal tone, only now it was edged with compassion.

"Everything she has said is true. You have both been through so much, suffered so much. I chose to give you this gift. She is you mother Ruby."

"But how?" The members of the Pantheon were powerful, but this trumped any Dust swords or fireballs. This was magic. Fairy tale magic.

"Need you ask? You are my descendants. The blood of my blood. More times over than you can count, but the link remains." They locked silver eyes. "Here, in this place, I can share with you all whom I can see." Titania smiled. "You have a rare opportunity Ruby, I do not believe you wish spend it with me. Speak to your mother. We can wait for a time."

It hadn't been much of an answer. Not really. Titania's words didn't make sense. Not to a sane person at least. But Ruby chose not to care. She looked back at her mother, standing there, so afraid and anxious, and a smile lit Ruby's face. She had made her decision. She moved forward, her arms wide, before pausing and looking back to Titania. "Can we?" Titania inclined her head, and with that Ruby threw herself at her mum. Summer caught her.

In her mother's arms, Ruby was transported back to a childhood that had been so cruelly torn away. It didn't matter that she had several inches on her mum, or that she was built more heavily. For the time being, she was Summer's little baby girl again.

Her mum smelt exactly how Ruby remembered. A soft blend of garden flowers, with roses most prominent of all. In her mind the fragrance was comfort, safety, love. She had missed it so much. Just as she had always loved, Summer brought her cloak around in her hug and ensnared them both. In that cocoon of fur, the pair of them held each other, the warmth of their bodies merging, and they cried.

Ruby hadn't meant to. It hadn't been a conscious decision. The tears came of their own volition. They were tinged with sadness for what had been lost, but they were filled with joy. Joy that she could embrace her mum again.

Neither knew how long they stayed that way, holding each other. Sobs racked Summer's chest as well. She couldn't kiss Ruby's hair like she used to, but she kissed her cheeks as they glistened in the light from the Aether.

"I love you. I love you so much. I need you to know that." Summer barely managed to get the words out through her choked throat. "And I'm proud of you. So proud. You're everything I could ever have hoped for. You're beautiful. You're strong, much stronger than I ever was. But most of all you're good. You always do what's right. I'm so proud of you," Summer repeated, her emotions finally overcoming her.

Ruby's did as well. The internal barometer that guided her actions was complex, but one of the questions she always asked herself was what her mum would have done in that situation. She had elevated her mum to a pedestal of righteousness. As a statue of good. To know that her mum was proud of her, of all the hard decisions that she'd had to make over the past few years, meant more than Ruby could put into words. So she squeezed tighter, savouring every lingering brush of her mum's breath on her cheeks, the warmth of her very soul.

In an ideal world they would have stayed that way forever. The world wasn't ideal though. The pair of them had been brought here for a reason. The three other women in the room waited silently, but they didn't do it patiently. After the fleeting eternity of the reunion, the pair of them broke apart.

Ruby looked deep into her mum's eyes. It was impossible for her not to wipe the tears away, for her thumbs to brush the skin of her mum's cheeks. It was idiosyncratic reversal of their roles, but it felt so right. There were a hundred thousand questions that Ruby wanted to ask, but one shone brightest of them all. It was by far the most personal.

"What happened that day?"

Summer didn't require more clarification. Shame, the deepest, most vibrant shame, emanated from her. To cause her mum pain was agony, but she had to know. Know why her childhood had turned out the way it did. Know the reasons why her life could have been so different.

"Just… a mistake. I got cocky, and it cost me everything. I didn't turn back when I should have. I thought I could do more. Drive the Grimm further away. One simple mistake, and it took you from me. I'm so sorry Ruby."

After so long, after so many imagined scenarios, to hear a reason so plain and ordinary made Ruby swallow. Had her life really been altered by that? One single mistake? Was that the reason her mum hadn't been around to tuck her in? Pack her lunches? Watch her graduate? Just a mistake?

But Ruby knew how many mistakes she had made. Just how easy it was to make them. She had survived by only the skin of her teeth more times than she could count. It was the life of a hunter. A life on the edge. Bleeding herself so others didn't have to. She'd been blessed by a copious amount of luck on her travels. On that grey day so many years ago, Summer's had run out, and she still hadn't forgiven herself.

"It's ok. I understand." After so long, Ruby could. Summer hadn't wanted it, not at all, but like so many things, it had just happened. It wouldn't change how much Ruby loved her, nor how much Summer loved her back. "It was an accident." The words were cleansing. All the bitterness that she'd repressed in her dark times was swept away with every syllable. "It wasn't your fault. You were just trying to help people."

Her mum had died. It had caused Ruby many sleepless nights. But through Summer's sacrifice, other children had been able to sleep peacefully, safe from the Grimm. If Ruby ever died in the line of duty, she could only hope her death would achieve the same. There would always be a part of her that mourned what she'd lost, but she'd never been prouder of her mum.

It showed in her face, and Summer could see. See that her daughter didn't hold anything against her. That her daughter had forgiven her for the years of pain. With an unconscious cry escaping her lips, Summer swept her up again, running her fingers through Ruby's hair, cradling Ruby's head against her. The hastily erected barriers on their tears broke anew.

When their tears dried up and they were able to turn to face the witnesses to their most private moment, they did so with a burden lifted from both of them. Whatever happened from now on, even if this entire construct was purely a fantastical dream, Ruby was glad it had occurred. She'd finally made peace with the deepest gremlin within her. The loss of her mum was still fiercely painful, but it was a deeper pain. It no longer stung.

The other three women were standing respectfully distant, just watching. Ruby looked into Titania's silver eyes. Just how many  _greats_  would have to be put in front of  _grandmother_  to accurately capture how they were related? Probably enough that it didn't matter, but Ruby only had one thing to say to her. "Thank you."

Titania inclined her head, showing off a circlet in her hair which appeared to be made of captured moonlight. "Never forget, true love is immortal. Neither time nor circumstance can extinguish it."

It was the truth. Even in death Summer had never stopped loving her, and, despite everything that had happened between them, Ruby had never stopped loving Weiss. They were meant to be together. She swore to herself to somehow make it work.

But first, Aurora and the others had to explain why they had brought her here. Arranged all this. This gathering of some of the most powerful people in existence that was apparently all for her.

"What do you want with me?" It helped to have her mum at her shoulder, offering the silent support of a parent.

Juno and Titania looked to Aurora to answer. "We want to help you complete your quest. The path you set yourself on when you started investigating Ozpin, investigating us, is nearing its end. You know what that end must be, even if you don't want to admit it. You know what you have to do."

"Do I?" She honestly didn't. It appeared that Aurora found it impossible to speak plainly.

"You do. You are a fighter, a warrior, a hunter. In your vows you swore to uphold the side of righteousness. To protect those who were unable to protect themselves. We wish to give you the opportunity to protect every innocent person in the world. We offer you the chance to be the hero you have always striven to be."

What child didn't want to be a hero? Well, not the ones who wanted to be a princess, but that was never who she had been. She'd always dreamed of not only saving people, but the entire world. But that was a dream bigger than her. One person, no matter how good with a scythe, couldn't change its course. Its momentum was unalterable, and yet, Aurora believed she could. The dots began to connect themselves in her head. Who had she been obsessing over? Who was linked to everyone in this room?

"Ozpin…"

"Yes." Aurora nodded. "It has come to this. We had wished to avoid it. We tried to reason with him. We couldn't. If he stands unopposed, Ozpin will cast a shadow over the world in his misguided search for utopia. You have seen the consequences of his actions. Felt them first hand. Vale will not be the end. Vacuo will be next. Then after, when he has consolidated his power, he will turn his sights to other shores. The reign of an immortal emperor. A god. You've read enough stories to guess how that would end. He needs to be stopped, and that burden falls upon you."

"Why me?" It was the utterance of millennia. The question that had been repeated by countless numbers of people. There was never an answer. Not a satisfactory one. Not really. It was often  _them_ , only because they were there.

But it wasn't pure happenstance that had brought her here. No, Aurora was too certain for that. Ruby had been selected. "Because you, among the millions who reside on this planet, chose not to step aside. Not to swear a vow you didn't believe in. You chose to stand for what is right. You, Ruby Rose, unearthed a secret that had lain undiscovered for a thousand years. You alone found the truth. But you are not done, not yet. The world needs you now. You alone can kindle light in the darkness."

Aurora talked about her as if she were from prophecy. From legend. A chosen one? The real world didn't work like that. She was just a girl. "What are you on about?" She didn't want this. All she'd ever wanted was to be normal.

"At this moment, Ozpin prepares for war. The forces he's marshalled, the hunters, the Tinmen, the ones who have hounded you, will sweep aside any defences that Vacuo can muster. He will bring this entire continent under his dominion, and in doing so will spread his brand of unjust justice. All will swear allegiance, or will languish within a cell. You have the chance to stop that."

"How am I meant to do anything?" Ruby still didn't want to. Still didn't see why Aurora was telling her this. She'd researched a bit into Ozpin's past. So what? It didn't mean anything.

"In a short while, Ozpin will be alone. You can be there to meet him. To stand against him."

"You want me to fight him?"

"Yes."

"You're crazy." She was. They all were. Maybe at times—at her lowest points while shivering in a ditch—she'd thought about getting revenge on Ozpin for everything he'd put her through, but they were just that, idle thoughts. She'd never actually wanted it. Too many in the world hurt others to right what they saw as wrongs. It never made anything better.

"No Ruby, we are not. Maybe we were to allow the situation to deteriorate to this level. That is the price of free will. Everyone deserves it. From the youngest child to even us. We allowed the people we knew so long to make their own choices, and we have ended up here. Where only the most extreme actions will have any affect. You alone can stop the future that is to come."

"I can't!" She really couldn't. Even if she agreed to this, to fight, Ozpin was stronger than her. Much stronger. He'd defeated an army. If they went up against each other in earnest, she would die. "You're like him. Why don't you fight him?"

"Each of us has our own role. Those roles do not lie with direct conflict. The time for words has expired. We cannot face him. You can. But I understand your concerns. Rest assured that you will only be one of the pieces in play. By the time you face him, Ozpin will be but a man."

Pieces on a chessboard. Aurora proclaimed to be different, but her manipulation said otherwise. How many times had she given this talk? At least it assuaged Ruby's fears that she was special. She was just another person to be manipulated. Still, she'd seen what Ozpin had done to her home country. It wasn't pretty. It was no longer a place that she wished to live. Could live. If she had the chance, surely she should do what was right?

But what was right anymore? Now, more than ever, Ruby realised that what was right for one person was wrong for another. What gave her the authority to choose for the world? She hated what Ozpin had done to her homeland, but most of the people there praised his resolve. They didn't care about the thousands who had died at his hand.

"You want Ruby to kill him?" Summer asked with the righteous anger of a mother.

Aurora took some time to formulate a response. When she did her tone was soft. "If it comes to that. Which it likely will. This isn't any easier for us. We have known each other for millennia. You simply cannot comprehend how much time we have spent in each other's company. I used to love him. I still do in many ways. But I can also recognise what needs to be done. No matter how hard it is. If we do not act now, he will become untouchable."

"But you're asking Ruby to kill him. You're asking her to bear this burden. Not anyone else."

Aurora didn't rise to meet Summer's anger. "The burden exists, so it must fall on someone's shoulders. It cannot fall on mine."

"But you chose Ruby!"

"She chose herself. I understand your anger. Starting along this path was not a decision any of us made lightly, but now we are here, and now Ruby must make her own choice. Not mine. Or yours. Hers."

Summer turned to her. "Ruby, you don't have to."

"Mum…" To have someone fighting her corner—especially her mum—after so long filled Ruby with joy, but Aurora was right. This was her decision. There were so many strands of evidence, of possible consequences. Ruby tried to gather them all up, interweave them with everything she'd seen over the past two years, and extrapolate it into the future.

It was hard, so hard, and for the first time Ruby understood some of what Weiss went through. She'd complained of the weight of her decisions affecting millions, and now Ruby bore that burden as well. The pressure almost crushed her. Would historians look back at this moment and decry her for being so stupid? Would her name become synonymous with foolishness, or worse, evil? Would she be painted as the villain who'd ruined the world's one chance at peace? All those questions and more flitted across Ruby's mind, but one stood out most off all. How Weiss had done this every day?

Ruby could admit she wasn't the most intelligent person. Critical thinking had never been her forte. Instead she relied on her instincts. It wasn't scientific but, for the most part, they hadn't led her astray. Unlike most people she could look back at the past and be proud of the majority of her choices.

Her moral yardstick was standing next to her. Her mother didn't want her to do this. Though she wasn't sure, Summer probably understood how painful it was to kill. To sully your very being with the act. She wanted to save her daughter from the pain. But it had never been Summer the mother who Ruby had compared herself to. Instead it was Summer the huntress. The super mum who had baked cookies and slain monsters. Who had done so much good. Given the choice to save the world, that Summer would only have given one answer.

"I'll do it." Three simple words, but with those three words her life would change, and quite possibly the world with it. They should have sent reverberations racing around the planet, ripples that coalesced and combined into waves. They didn't. Instead they were just noise in the air.

"Ruby no!"

"Mum… It's the right thing to do. You taught me to always follow my heart."

Summer bit her lip again, tears in the corner of her eyes. She knew that her daughter's mind was made up. "I'm proud of you. Know that and never forget it."

"I know." A part of her had always believed that her mum was watching over her. It was why she'd strived so hard to make her proud. But there was one last thing that Ruby wanted to know. "What happens after you die? What comes next?" Ruby faced the very real possibility that Ozpin would kill her.

Shrugging her shoulders, Summer smiled. "In all honesty I don't know. I never wanted to leave. I never wanted to say goodbye. I stayed here, watching over you and Yang. If there's a place after, I don't want to experience it without you." It was tragic, so sad. Summer had been ripped from their lives so early, so unjustly, and had spent all these years in limbo. But at the same time it was sweet. Summer had been watching over her. Looking out for her.

Souls existed, so it only made sense that something must be next. Ruby didn't have any words that could accurately convey her emotions. So instead she relied on physical contact. She hugged her mum again. Making up for all the hugs that had been lost over the years.

When they broke apart, she was ready. "How do we do this?"

Aurora answered. "We are waiting in this place, in these ruins, in the real world. When you wake up, come here. Juno," Aurora indicated her, "will transport you to Ozpin. He will be alone. Then it is up to you."

"Right." It sounded simple enough.

"However you do not yet know everything." For some reason Ruby's stomach flipped. Aurora's delivery didn't suggest it was just a minor detail. "On your way here, you lost connection to the CCT network?" It was hardly a question. Even the boosters didn't reach into the middle of nowhere. Ruby nodded. "Then you don't know of the situation in Vacuo."

_Vacuo?_  Yang had been there, and her dad, and Blake, and Weiss. Everyone she cared about. She had seen the troops moving to the border, but she hadn't thought they would have been caught up in it. "What happened?" There was a bite to her tone.

"There isn't an easy way to say this. Weiss was arrested. She confessed to murder. She's sentenced to die."

"You fucking bitch!" Summer spat. It was just as well Summer had spoken; Ruby's brain couldn't formulate a single thought. It had frozen entirely.  _Weiss…_  Even apart it had brought solace to her to know that Weiss was out there somewhere. She couldn't die. The world simply wouldn't be worth living in if the light of Weiss didn't shine within it.

"Why would you tell her this?" Summer appeared very close to seeing if her current body was capable of hitting Aurora. Her face was screwed up with an anger that Ruby knew she should be feeling. Instead she just felt numb.

"Because Ruby deserves to know all the facts. The execution is set for tomorrow. If Ruby wishes to try and save Weiss, we would facilitate that, but then the only opportunity to stop Ozpin would pass."

To hear  _Weiss_  and  _execution_  said so close together was a dagger to Ruby's heart. Her legs were unsteady. Weiss might have done some bad things, but she'd done good things as well. She didn't deserve that. Ruby had to stop it. To make whomever made the judgement see reason. Weiss was a good person at heart. They would have to listen to her.

But could she really do that? Put her own wishes ahead of everyone else's. The simple decision she'd made to follow her heart now pulled her in two. There was the direction that was right, and the direction that would take her to the person she loved. They didn't coincide. Ruby didn't know what to do. To save the world, was to betray Weiss. But to save Weiss, was to betray the world. She wished she had never been told. It would have been easier.

Titania pressed her lips together, as if Ruby's mental pain was causing her physical anguish. The torment within Ruby's soul was plain for Summer to see. "This is cruel."

"It is," Aurora admitted. "But for too long we have dictated the direction of the world. It was wrong. From this point forward, it will be up to people like her. People with a simple, honest soul. Ruby, I only tell you this because we want to leave you free to make an informed decision. You have heard what I have had to say. You know who Ozpin is, and what he will do to the world if left unopposed. On the other hand you can try and save the person you love.

"It is time for you to choose."

 


	28. Chapter 28

Blake didn't want to get up. Not when the ground beneath her was so comfortable. She just didn't have the energy. Her body ached from fighting. She was tired. So tired. Tired enough that even the Grimm—only now climbing to their feet in the dust-laden air—failed to scare her. They were just monsters after all. She'd been fighting them her entire life. She deserved a break.

Her shoulder burned. The joint had swollen stiff. Even the slightest movement sent agony down her nerves. Sun's treatment had only been a temporary fix. Handicapped, she had taken numerous other wounds in the desperate struggle. Her skin was stained with blood and dirt so deeply she would probably never be clean again.

Her body was exhausted and spent, but it was her mind that prevented her from getting up. She just didn't see the point. She would just get knocked back down again. Only a handful of the hundreds who had set out just a few hours before remained alive.

So many bodies. So much death. It had surrounded her for so long. She was a magnet for pain. Her life brought only death to those near her. Yang hadn't fallen yet, but it was only a matter of time. She was spent as well.

The wound on her stomach had opened again, her bandages dyed carmine. It must have been agony. It was a miracle she had fought for this long at this intensity. Any sensible person would have collapsed. Not that they'd had the opportunity, or that Yang was sensible. Even now her Aura flared, creating sparks where once there were flames. Yang hung on by a fingernail, the thinnest thread of her will, but it was enough. Somehow, she staggered to her feet. Swaying in the lightest breeze.

Nothing could have persuaded Blake to forego the comfort of the jagged rocks beneath her. Nothing apart from Yang. If Yang could find the strength to stand, so could she. Fighting was a whole other matter though.

Her legs ached and shook as she tried to put weight on them. They held, barely. Gambol Shroud dangled from the ribbon wrapped around her wrist. The blade was stained, chipped, and pitted. Without its sheath, it looked exactly how she felt. A shadow of its former self.

They all did. There was no trace of the people who had set out on this expedition. No trace of the proud force protecting their king. Only remnants. But they were remnants who had made it this far. They were hunters. They had sworn their life to the endless war against the Grimm. They were heroes one and all. And within each of their souls was a hidden pool of strength. A pool that few had, and even fewer could tap into. Ignoring the complaints of their bodies which would have felled lesser men, they climbed back to their feet.

A bristling ring of steel greeted the horde around them; there weren't enough of them left to form a solid circle, but they did the best they could. If Blake could take one solace from her impending death, it was that 'horde' was barely the right word anymore. They must have killed hundreds of Grimm in their last stand. It was a feat fit for any of her books. Their actions should have been celebrated, revered. Instead, the island of Menagerie would swallow them as if they'd never existed.

The Grimm faced them down, muscles bunching, throats growling, fangs dripping venom. A crackling roar drowned everything out. The impact that had knocked Blake from her feet had also thrown up a thick smog of dust; it hung heavy in the air, obscuring the crater from sight.

Rays of light shone through the murk causing individual particles to sparkle in the rays. A figure clambered from the crater, one which burned impossibly brightly. Cinder's dragon roared its triumph off the vaults of the heavens.

Its wings swept great clouds of dust from beneath it. The powerful gusts threatened to knock Blake from her precarious standing position. The dragon took to the air and, upon seeing what had bested the oldest and most powerful of them, the Grimm fled. It started with a trickle, a single Ursa, but before long they all ran for the safety of the forest.

Cinder didn't let them reach it. Fire consumed the running pack. The flames almost seemed alive as they clung to the thrashing forms, burning through both flesh and armour. The Grimm ran, they rolled, they danced, and then they collapsed, quivering on the ground.

It was worse for those that didn't die quickly. One of the Goliaths had enough mass to survive the flames as they slowly sank into it, burning along its nerves like they were made of tallow. The pain drove it insane. It reared up on its hind legs, trumpeting its agony.

The dragon struck the Goliath in the side. The impact shook the ground, and that was before the Goliath toppled over. The dragon rode it down. Fire engulfed them both. Blake had to throw up her arm to shield her eyes from the wafting heat. When it cleared, the Goliath was but a smoking pool of melted flesh and protruding bones.

It was yet another display of the unimaginable power that Cinder wielded. A Goliath brought low in a moment. Cinder still stood, protected in the centre of their circle, right up against the bulk of truck. She alone appeared unharmed. From the expression on her face she even seemed exultant, as if she were revelling in her might.

Cinder might have been kept safe from the Grimm, but that didn't mean the person next to her was unharmed as well. Velvet's body quivered, her eyes screwed shut, her ears drooping the lowest Blake had ever seen. An incarnadine glow surrounded her. The dragon hadn't been entirely Cinder's creation. Cinder may have shaped and enhanced it, but Velvet alone had provided the raw power. Even now she was still providing it. Her skin stood out like parchment against the blemishes.

Back in Airtafae, Cinder had shown them what she could do with the tiniest crystal. When Velvet used her Semblance, she didn't do tiny. The two most powerful Dust users on the planet had combined to create a beast that had laid the Grimm low. The effort had taken a much more serious toll on one of them.

As the dragon dissolved, its almost liquid body spreading over the ground in a wave of fire, Cinder released her mental hold on Velvet. The Faunus collapsed. Her body entirely limp. She hit the solid rock face first and made no effort to break her fall.

Cinder stepped past her. It was as if she were discarding a broken tool. In reality she was. In all the time Blake had known her, she had witnessed Cinder make a single effort to connect with anyone personally. She was distant. It wasn't that surprising. No one with any trace of empathy could have committed the atrocities she had. Or, for that matter, looked around at all the bodies surrounding them with a smile on their face.

"Is it over?" Yang asked.

"I think so," Blake said. The air was silent but for the still smouldering carcasses.

Yang's reply was distant. "Good." She fell backwards.

Blake tried to catch her, but she was too slow. Too tired. Yang hit the ground hard. "Yang!" Blake dropped to her knees beside her. Any physical pain she'd been experiencing diminished into insignificance. Terror filled her breast. Yang's eyelids fluttered.

"I'm ok," she said, her voice unfocused. "It's just… Ow." Her hands pressed against the sodden bandages over her stomach. Yang sounded young. So young. And vulnerable. She had fought for hours with a wound that would have put any sensible person in the hospital. She had ignored the reports of her body, and it had taken its toll.

Blake's mind was blank. For anyone else she would have known what to do. What procedures would help. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Yang. The only person in the world who truly understood her. The person who was so special to her. The person whom she loved. Under the weight of her panic, she couldn't think of anything. She clasped Yang's hand. The blood, Yang's blood, glued their skin together.

"Yang!" Taiyang shouted as he rounded the truck. He fell to his knees beside his daughter, but he was not entirely paralysed by fear. "What happened?"

It was Yang who answered, not Blake. "Just a kitty." She laughed and regretted it immediately. It was just like Yang to try and make everyone else feel better.

"I'm going to have to see. I'm sorry. This is going to hurt." Taiyang pulled their hands away.

"I know. I'm fine. Do what you have to do." There was strength in her voice, resolve. Blake looked her in the eye. Yang managed to smile for her. To make it all seem like it was a minor inconvenience.

Taiyang joined Yang in hissing as he pulled the last of the bandages away. The flesh beneath was puckered and raw. It was much worse than when Blake had seen it earlier. If Yang had been rushed straight into surgery immediately she would have been fine. With proper sutures, she probably wouldn't even have had noticeable scars. Now though, Blake wasn't sure. She squeezed Yang's hand in response to Yang trying to crush hers.

"She'll live." A cool voice said from above her. Cinder looked down at them. "Trust me. I've seen more than enough wounds in my life."

"So have I," Taiyang paused in the midst of removing a small medical kit from his belt. "But this fucking island won't be conducive to her recovery. Why are we even here? You still haven't explained that."

Cinder's brow furrowed. "I don't appreciate your tone."

"And I don't give a flying fuck." With a bleeding daughter under his hands, Taiyang had lost any inclination to be diplomatic.

"What's going o—" Raven limped towards the commotion before she saw Yang. She repeated the same exclamation the rest of them had made.

"Look, I'm fine… Mostly," Yang admitted after a time. It was lie none of them bought. "But I would also like to know why the fuck we're here?"

"Mother…" Raven warned, her tone lacking any form of patience as Cinder turned her heated gaze on Yang.

"Fine. We came here, to this 'fucking island' as you so delicately put it, to kill that." Cinder pointed at the crater where the Grimm dragon lay.

"Why? Ow!" Yang winced. Taiyang hadn't stopped in his treatment while Cinder spoke, and Raven provided another pair of steady hands.

"I have neither the time nor the patience to explain everything to you. Suffice to say, that Grimm, is the source of Ozpin's power. When we destroy it completely, he will be weakened. For a short time, or maybe longer, he will be vulnerable." Glee practically dripped from that last statement. So much so that Blake didn't understand one thing.

"If he's weak now, why are you here? I thought you wanted to kill him?"

The truth was in the tightening of her lips. "Only I was capable of defeating that." She nodded towards the Grimm. "Regardless, it was decided to give the chance to another. I would have thoroughly enjoyed watching the light fade from his treacherous eyes, but for the cooperation that allowed this to take place, I cannot."

So Cinder had made a bargain with Juno, and maybe some of the others of her old organisation. That was interesting. She hadn't thought Cinder would give up her vengeance for any reason.

"There." Taiyang tied the last knot in the bandage. "As good as… well not new."

"Thanks. Help me up."

"Yang, I don't think—"

"I'll live. You heard her. Plus you did a great job. We'll have to get moving soon anyway. Won't we?"

"Indeed." Cinder looked over towards the crater again. For some reason she seemed anxious.

"Are we done here?" King Badr walked over. Blake peered at him. He was drenched in blood and gore, but unlike the rest of them none of it seemed to be his own. Unless he was concealing wounds beneath his breastplate, he was uninjured.

"Yes." Cinder waved at the driver of the truck. It began to trundle towards the crater. "Get your men ready to fall back."

Badr laughed as if she'd made a fine joke. "There aren't that many left. The Grimm were most thorough." The deaths didn't seem to affect him either. It wasn't what anyone would have expected from a ruler. The soldiers had looked up to him, followed him. Now they rotted on the ground.

"They were indeed."

With the truck out the way, they could see the truth of Cinder's words. Less than two score people remained out of several hundred. Such a waste of life. Blake took the coward's way out. She looked away. She couldn't face seeing Sun cradling a blue head in his arms. Qrow trying to resuscitate Velvet. Oobleck standing over the body of his oldest friend. A scene repeated dozens of times.

It affected all of them. Or at least all of them with hearts. Cinder watched impassively.

"Was it worth it?" Yang asked through gritted teeth.

"To topple the reign of an immortal emperor? I would think so."

"I don't."

"Really? What if I tell you the champion chosen to face Ozpin is your sister?"

"What!" Yang and Taiyang spoke almost simultaneously. Yang actually as far as grabbing Cinder's shoulder and spinning her around. Any trace of exhaustion had vanished.

Cinder's eyes glowed. "Remove your hand!"

"Then tell me what the fuck you meant about my sister!"

For a second it appeared that Yang had pushed her too far. That Cinder was going to attack. Punish her. It was what her insolence demanded. But in that moment Cinder saw that Yang's expression was matched on all those around her. Even Raven's jaw jutted in betrayed fury.

On this expedition they'd all been pushed so far. They'd seen friends die for a cause that had been withheld from them. There was no way any one of them would have agreed to go if they'd known the full extent of Cinder's plan. That Ruby was in danger. They would have been at her side and screw the consequences.

Cinder saw all that, and realised that if she attacked Yang, she would have to fight the rest of them too. Spent as they were she could have killed them all, but maybe she held the slightest bit of compassion for Raven's family.

"As I explained earlier, I did not make that decision. Ruby has been chosen. She and she alone. I would not have made that call, not for a matter as important as this. I wouldn't have chosen a mere girl. Rest assured that it is not my will." With a smooth motion she broke Yang's grip from her shoulder. "I am only left to hope that she proves strong enough."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Taiyang growled. With the fury of a father he seemed to be heartbeats away from striking her.

"It would have been counter-productive. Your minds would have been elsewhere when they were needed here."

"We wouldn't have been here!"

"Maybe not, but you wouldn't have been with Ruby either. She was chosen to face this task alone. Foolishly. You could not have changed that. Your strength would have been wasted chasing after her. Here you had the chance to aid her. Walk with me."

Cinder led them to the edge of the crater. The basalt had been melted and reformed into strange patterns. It was deep, far deeper than it should have been. It only confirmed the weight of the beast that lay within. From this close up, it was colossal in the way that buildings were. Nothing that large should have been able to live, and yet it had.

And still did. The dragon wasn't dead. Not if the shifting of its body meant anything. Its scales might have been burnt and rent, its wings shredded, and its bones visibly bursting from flesh, but it wasn't dead. It still breathed. The most powerful and largest Grimm Blake had ever seen was simply too stubborn to die.

Its back appeared broken, it couldn't raise its neck, but an eye was open. The malevolence in its gaze made Blake's hairs stand on end. It watched them all, but it watched Cinder most of all. She stared back, a thin smile on her lips.

With them both in view, Blake noticed a pattern she hadn't before. Lights shifted beneath Cinder's skin. It wasn't that unusual. The few times Blake had witnessed her utilise her Semblance they'd always been there. They were dimmer now, not as prominent, barely a ghost beneath Cinder's pale flesh, but they were there.

They were also present on the dragon. Not in the same way. There weren't sources of illumination underneath its flesh. Instead it almost seemed like an anti-light. As if it absorbed light from the environment and became darker. They were different, but there was an odd resonance. As the lights in Cinder's skin pulsed, patterns on the dragon's scales waned. They shifted in unison, as if Cinder and the dragon were connected with an invisible link.

Cinder turned to them all. "This is what you accomplished by being here. This is what all these people gave their lives to accomplish. This beast is the source of Ozpin's power, and we are going to destroy it. Without our actions, Ruby would be facing Ozpin at his full strength. No matter her skill, she would have lasted mere seconds. All of this has made her task possible. You have done far more here than you would have by her side."

The logic was perhaps sound, but it didn't appeal to Yang. All she knew was that her sister was going into danger alone. "I hate you."

Cinder eyed her for a few seconds, bearing the brunt of her loathing without flinching. "Rest assured that your hate means nothing to me child. Take solace in the fact you have helped your sister. Now, there are wounded who need tending. We will not be here long."

While they cared for their injured, the technicians who had remained safe in the cab of the truck prepared the bomb. The armoured sides folded down and the gleaming interior was revealed. It was all pipes and metal chambers. Blake couldn't even fathom how it would work, but judging by its size she didn't want to be near it when it did. Cinder might have been unable to kill the dragon completely, but she'd planned for that eventuality.

They were a sorry troop as they departed. Those who could walk aided those who could not. Blake made sure to stay close to Yang. To be there if she stumbled again. Taiyang held Velvet in his arms. She was breathing, but not much more than that. Her eyes hadn't opened once.

Sun and Sage had left behind the bodies of their teammates like so many had to. They couldn't bury them and, when the dead outnumbered the living to this degree, they simply couldn't do more than leave them. The bomb blast would be their collective cremation.

It was her fault. Blake didn't appreciate the thought, but it was true. She had asked Sun to come. Preyed on her friendship with him. If not for her, Neptune and Scarlet would be alive. They would be enjoying the Vacuan sun and looking forward to the rest of their lives. Now they were rotting meat.

Raven knelt next to her portal. Compared to what had originally carried them to the island, it was a pale imitation, barely wide enough for two people to pass at a time. Those still able fight went through first.

The sensation of stepping through the portal made Blake stumble. On top of her other wounds and injuries, it was too much. Yang came off worse. Blake only just managed to keep her from falling. They were in the middle of the forest. Even at the height of her strength Raven couldn't have transported them straight to the island off the coast. In her current state, she could only manage short distances at a time. Still, exhausted and depleted as they were, even the portals beat walking.

Whether a conscious decision or a fortunate accident, they didn't travel along the same path as they had. They didn't appear each time surrounded by the bodies of those they had lost on the way. The Grimm didn't trouble them either. There was no way that the entirety of Menagerie had been tamed but, for the moment, the Grimm had been driven off.

On the beach, with the island just visible through the spray of the sea, Blake made a promise never to return to Menagerie. Qrow had been right. It was cursed. She would be happy if the memories simply ceased to exist.

It took Raven far longer than usual to create the next portal. It had to stretch miles, whereas the others had stretched only a few hundred yards. It was weak and sputtering, seeming to flicker in and out of existence. Raven's body shook a little more as each person stepped through it.

Blake was one of the last through. Raven hadn't taken them back to the fortress. No one seemed bothered. Almost everyone took the opportunity to finally collapse onto the shelf of black stone. Even Yang. She didn't fall down, but instead slowly lowered herself to the hard ground. Yang might have been unaware of the pained hisses that escaped her lips, but Blake wasn't. She did what she could for her partner, trying to keep her stomach more or less straight. Blake was aware that if she sat down too she would likely never find the energy to rise. She didn't care. She was spent.

There was so much that they both needed to do. So much they should have done. They didn't. They just leant up against each other, sharing their strength and their grief, staring out over the tempestuous sea at the island where they'd lost so many.

Taiyang trudged from the portal, still carrying the comatose Velvet. He set her down gently. That only left Raven. She staggered through the portal, and almost immediately lost her footing as it closed.

None of them were safe. Though the days they had spent here had likely cleared the majority of the Grimm from the small island, it was possible they would come under attack again. In the fortress they would have been safe, but they would need to wait for Raven to recover to go back there.

Only a handful of people retained the strength to remain standing. King Badr stood idly; Mercury walked towards the beach, scuffing his blood-stained boots on the ground beneath him; Taiyang and Qrow might have stood, but they were checking Velvet and Raven respectively; and of course Cinder didn't take a knee.

That would have been a step too far for someone as proud as her. She looked back at Menagerie, the wind whipping at her hair and dress. Drawing on her indomitable will, nothing would bring her down.

Minutes passed, maybe hours, in all honesty Blake wasn't sure. She was just too numb. Her world became the pain in her body, the warmth of Yang against her side, the sight in front of her, and the grief in her heart. With her head on Yang's shoulder, she didn't cry. She didn't have the strength, but silent tears welled and began their slow descent down her face. She didn't want to look around. Be reminded of all the people she'd lost.

Cinder checked her scroll again, and this time returned it to her pocket. Her hand came out with a small silver cylinder. She extended an antenna from it and called out in voice all were able to hear over the waves. "I would suggest that everyone brace."

It took Blake a moment to realize just what she was implying. Cinder's thumb hovered over a red button. She and Yang squeezed each other tighter. A thumb descended.

* * *

 

Nothing happened. Not for several long, long seconds. Long enough that a few people exchanged glances. Then, on the island of Menagerie, just in front of the thousand spires, a new sun was born.

It started in its infancy. Small and almost inconsequential. A gentle brightening. It didn't remain that way for long. It grew. The black peaks of the spires shifted to white. Yang threw an arm up against her eyes. It didn't help. The actual sun dimmed in the sky, transformed into irrelevance by the creation of man.

The wave of light struck Yang almost as if it were a physical thing. She recoiled from the burning heat. It seared her retinas even through her shielding arm and burned her skin. The ground trembled. Rock cracked and split. It ripped Blake away from her. They fell apart.

The shockwave arrived moments later. It bowled her over and sent her cartwheeling as if she were a child. Her ears popped. Her sense of balance disappeared. Debris rained down from the sky. Chunks of stone and wood as large as her torso and larger. Under the assault, she made herself as small possible. Her instincts even made her forget Blake. She only hugged her knees, wishing it to end. Praying she wouldn't die. That she was finished with this lunacy. Promising that if she got out she would never do anything this stupid again.

The ground became still. Though it might have, her body couldn't. Her mind had simply been overwhelmed by all the different stimuli. All competing for which one hurt the most. Her torn stomach won, but only just.

At least she could see. Even if the world was dark. Blake looked bad. Really bad. Her hands pressed down on her Faunus ears, the subconscious motions of someone trying to push the pain away. Yang couldn't imagine what that noise had done to them when it had driven a red-hot nail into her own. Yang rolled to her knees and crawled closer. The few yards that separated them were some of the longest of her life. Her head spun sickeningly but, for Blake, she fought through it.

Blake didn't look good. Even if not for her ears, her skin was scalded red, burned by the heat of the explosion. Blood ran freely from both her nostrils, pooling around her lips. Short of wiping it away, Yang just didn't know what to do for her. She tried to roll Blake onto her side, ignoring the whimpers of pain, and apologising in a voice that sounded strangely distant.

If Yang had thought it would help she would have cried out, but it wouldn't. Everyone else was in similar states. The bomb had downed them all. It wasn't surprising. Not when she considered what it had done to Menagerie.

A cloud spread over the island. Hundreds of feet tall, its tip blossomed outwards as the hot air within cooled. It concealed almost everything in the centre of Menagerie. The forests on its edge had been stripped bare. Thousands of trees simply gone, reduced to matchsticks and then carried away.

Beneath her the towering wave set into motion by the explosion crashed into the beach. Water raced towards their group, surging past the high tide mark and lapping around them. Yang had to dig in to avoid being dragged back. Another wave followed soon after.

All this destruction had been wrought by a single creation of man. White Dust bombs were more or less common knowledge. Everyone knew that they had been worked on in the Great War, but they'd never been deployed, or even tested. Gathering enough of the raw resources was close to impossible. It was said that some countries had built them in the years since, but Yang had just assumed them to be typical bombs. Armies were much more important. How wrong she'd been. Detonated in the middle of a city, it would have killed hundreds of thousands.

No one would have survived. Well, no one apart from Cinder and, more surprisingly, King Badr. They alone stood tall, facing the explosion. That he still stood at all raised her suspicions. He was the only one who had come through the battle without a visible wound. He'd lived where most of his protectors had died.

In their very first meeting, Cinder had said that she had convinced King Badr not to attack Vale. That he wouldn't be a problem any longer. At the time, Yang hadn't thought Cinder meant permanently. But she'd replaced him with one of her old comrades. One who had played the part well enough that no one had noticed their king was dead. They'd taken an entire country in one fell swoop, and he'd made all this possible.

Lights shone beneath both their skin. Bright white lights. They seemed to be intrinsically linked to whatever made the pair of them gods. But, unlike all the times before, the lights flickered. They gained intensity until they were almost blinding, and then became dull. The cycle continued speeding up, slowing down. Intermittent and uncontrolled. The pair of them collapsed, falling to their knees, their bodies shaking, spasming.

Just as people were beginning to react, they stilled. The lights died. Their skin returned to normal. No one rushed to check on them. Yang had no idea what had happened. The display had been unlike anything she'd seen before.

And yet, she could guess. The entire purpose of this expedition had been to weaken Ozpin, and Juno had said they would all bear the cost. Had Cinder really been so intent on vengeance she'd been willing to put herself at risk? Yang wouldn't put it past her. Her quest for revenge had seen entire cities and countries fall. When it came to her hatred of Ozpin, she would have watched the entire world burn as long as he burned along with it.

That was what she had done. Whatever had happened had affected both Cinder and Badr simultaneously. It stood to reason that Ozpin was suffering as well. She had achieved her goal. Not that it had come without risk.

Cinder lay on the ground. She had exerted herself immensely in the fight against the dragon, and now without the mysterious source of her power, it was taking its toll. Badr was quicker to rise. He took three staggering steps forwards and drew one of his black swords. It stabbed haphazardly downwards. The White Dust-imbued blade pierced the ground. Badr ripped it sideways, cutting at an invisible foe. He laughed.

"I'm almost disappointed," Cinder said, climbing to her feet. Badr spun around, the white sword still held in his hands. His eyes widened. "You've never changed, have you Dolos? Never could resist the opportunity to stab someone in the back. After all we've been through together. All these years. You still couldn't resist the urge to betray me. Did you really think you could outmanoeuvre me? You never were the smartest of us." She seemed to have recovered, or at least was putting on a strong front. Dolos drew his other sword.

"God. Did you ever realise how stuck up you were? You and Ozpin both. Always lording it over the rest of us. Well guess what? You're outnumbered. Kill her!" Dolos waved one of his blades.

No one started forward. In fact there were a lot of bemused glances over shoulders. It was only now that Yang came to realise no one around wore a Vacuan military uniform. The few survivors had gone through the portal, but hadn't come out the other side. All those here were the hunters that Cinder had selected.

"What are you waiting for!" Dolos shouted, gesturing wildly.

"Have you not worked it out yet?" Cinder smirked. "Emerald, you can stop now."

It was only when Cinder looked at her that Yang saw Emerald. She was crouched down, her face screwed up, her body shaking with exertion. At the command, she exhaled heavily. She must have been around in the fight, but Yang couldn't actually remember seeing Emerald all that often.

If there was one emotion that entered Dolos' expression, it was fear. He cast around, searching. His strange actions made sense to Yang now. If Emerald was involved, she'd no doubt had him seeing exactly what she wanted him to see. Or more precisely what Cinder wanted him to see. It was entirely possible Badr had exited the portal believing they were back at the fortress, surrounded by the fresh troops that hadn't gone with them on the expedition. Instead, his desperate glances revealed only stony faces. None which owed a king their fealty.

"Do you wish to reassess the situation? There's one thing that has been puzzling me all this time…" Cinder revelled in his fear. "Ozpin never gloated. Never admitted to trying to have me killed. There's no reason why he wouldn't. Especially now. He maintains his innocence. But they were his hunters. I'm certain of that. If anyone could have imitated him, it would have been you. So tell me, were you the catalyst for all of this? Did you order the death of my husband?" Her tone which had started playful, ended entirely flat. She took a step forward.

"He attacked me remember."

"Oh yes. You always were the great actor. Still, I should have seen through your little performance. You can blame my rage for that. I couldn't see past Ozpin. I can now."

"I'm telling you the truth." Dolos didn't lower his swords, but even Yang was able to detect the desperation in his tone.

"I'm sure you're not, but it doesn't matter anymore. You betrayed me. I don't take that well." Venom practically flew through the air. Just as she was about to speak, Dolos interrupted her.

"You need me."

"You were useful. I'll admit that. I might even miss having you around when I want to freshen up. But I'll make the sacrifice."

"I'm still useful." The king practically begged. "You'll need my help to deal with the fallout from killing the Schnees."

_Schnees…_

Yang missed whatever Cinder's reply was.

_Weiss…_

It was in that moment Yang knew she'd made one of the biggest mistakes of her life. And unlike most of the others, this couldn't be undone. If what Dolos had so casually remarked was true. Weiss… was dead. And she'd gone to her grave with the knowledge that Yang hated her.

That almost broke Yang. She was barely holding it together. She hadn't hated Weiss. Not really. She had tried really hard to. Perhaps at times she had, but most of the time it had just been a front. As childish as it was, she had just been punishing Weiss. Punishing Weiss for hurting Ruby, for hurting Blake, and for hurting her.

She'd been under no misapprehensions that her life wouldn't have Weiss in it. Not when Ruby still loved her as much as she did. She had known eventually they would have to make up, or at least come to an understanding. She had just wanted to return a bit more of the pain that Weiss had caused her before that happened. Before she was forced to admit that Weiss was her friend.

And now she never could. Not to the person that mattered. Weiss was gone. Dead. And she hadn't even had the courage to go and see her with Blake. To bury the hatchet as anyone else would have done. No. She had been too stubborn. And now it was too late.

It was by far the most despicable thing that she'd even done. Had Weiss thought about her old friend in her last moments? Yang honestly wished she hadn't. She didn't even want to imagine that Weiss had suffered with that pain as well.

If she could do it again, Yang would do so many things differently. She'd have gone to Weiss, maybe have slapped her, called her a frigid bitch, but eventually she would have forgiven her. Told her that despite everything, she still had a friend. That the bonds they'd forged at Beacon couldn't be so easily broken. That she was like a little sister.

But Yang couldn't do it again. She almost threw up. She could only take the guilt to her grave, and perhaps beg for forgiveness from Weiss in the afterlife.

Surrounded by Cinder's troops, Dolos appeared to have abandoned any sense of dignity. Yang couldn't find the energy to listen to his begging, and Cinder had tired of it as well.

"Stop! Is this really how you want to die?"

"Cinder, I can still help you. You know that. You know that you'll need me in the future!"

"What I know," Cinder hissed the words between gritted teeth, "is that you betrayed me." She nodded.

Mercury lashed out. A single kick from behind. Thanks to Emerald, Dolos probably hadn't even known he was there. Mercury's boot struck the back of his spine with pinpoint precision. Dolos' head snapped back, and his body dropped as if he were a discarded puppet.

As simply as that, a god fell.

There was no light. No magical regeneration. Not even an Aura worth its name. It had only taken Mercury a single kick to kill him. A person who had lived for thousands of years. Mercury seemed neither impressed nor horrified by his actions, instead he seemed bored. As if killing was a mundane everyday activity.

Warm sticky fingers wrapped around Yang's own. It was in that moment of contact, that Yang knew almost every emotion she was feeling was mirrored in Blake. They'd been through so much together. They'd grown close, and they'd fallen apart.

And it all seemed to have been for nought. Even Cinder appeared pensive as she looked down at the body of the person she had known for so long. Everything she had done. Every crime she had perpetrated. Every death she had caused. All the actions that had cascaded throughout the world had been started because of lie. Somehow worse than just the deaths alone was knowing that they'd been so avoidable.

They may have been, but they had happened. Yang had lived through it all. She was only fortunate that she'd had Blake by her side. That she was still at her side. Together they could do so much. But not now. Even if it had all begun with a deception, it wouldn't end with the discovery of the truth. The world was set into motion. The pair of them could only continue with the path they had chosen, and hopefully, at the end of it, they could give everyone the opportunity to live the lives they wanted to live.

They had done their part. They had made their sacrifices. They had shed blood and lost friends. They had seen things they would never recover from, but they had achieved their aim. If Dolos was any example, the gods were mortal once more. They had given Ruby a chance.

 


	29. Chapter 29

Ruby could barely see. The trees around her were blurred and soft. The sunlight streamed down and sparkled. Her throat had swollen. Her nose ran. She dragged the back of her arm across it while trying to get her breathing under control. It didn't matter. She just couldn't stop crying.

It was hard leaving that dream place and having to say goodbye to her mum. In some ways it should have been a happy occasion. All those years ago, she had said goodbye the night before Summer left on what should have been a simple hunt. It had been a goodbye, but not a proper one. It had been a goodbye warmed with the promise of presents and cookies upon Summer's return.

Routine had robbed the moment of its power. It wasn't her mum's first hunt and, at the time, Ruby had been sure it wouldn't be her last. If she had just known, even as a child, she would have said so much more. Told her mum just how much she loved her.

As an adult, she'd had that opportunity. It was a miracle really. Even if the memory was a false one, some extension of the dream, she didn't care. She'd had the chance to talk to her mum again. To tell her everything she'd wanted to all those years, and to hear everything her mum had wanted to say back.

Even though she had gone through the pain of saying goodbye again, Ruby didn't regret it. Though her eyes were wet with tears, her heart should have been buoyed. The age-old wound within finally mended. She should have woken up happy.

That hadn't been the case. Not by a long shot. Not with what she had learned about Weiss. They'd had their ups and downs. In some of her darkest moments Ruby had laid all the blame in the world at Weiss' door. But she had never, for one single moment, wished her harm. She loved her far too much for that. And now they were talking again, even laughing on the phone. They were finally on a path where Ruby had begun to imagine there might somehow be a future for them together. Then Aurora had dropped that bombshell.

It wasn't in Ruby to hate. Not really. She had never hated Weiss. She hadn't hated White Fang, or the people who'd done all those things to her homeland. She didn't even hate the Grimm. Detested them yes, but not hated.

She had never thought she could properly hate anyone but, right at this moment, she hated Aurora. She hated Aurora with her entire being. It wasn't just the fact that she had been the bearer of bad news. It was the fact she'd seemed to get a kick out of telling her that Weiss was going to die. That was probably unfair, but it was how it had appeared.

Aurora could have left her oblivious. Left her to face Ozpin with a free mind only to find out her world had ended afterwards. Aurora had instead made her choose. She might have thought it some grand test. Some ordeal that would ultimately show if Ruby was worthy. If she had that simple, honest soul that seemed so important. If it had been meant to be a test, Aurora had been successful. It  _had_  tested Ruby. It had broken her physically.

She'd had to choose between holding onto the core values of herself ̶ ̶ the vows of a hunter she had spent her entire life trying to live up to ̶ ̶ and her life. Weiss. The twin forces that her world revolved around had torn her in two. And then torn all of those pieces in two, and so on until there hadn't been anything left.

Without her mum there to hold her, to provide a shoulder to cry on, to loan her strength, she would have just curled up on the floor and died. She wanted to do that anyway. Especially after her decision. The decision that would haunt her to her grave. She could only wish it would come soon.

It had always been her dream to be the hero. The huntress who saved the world. If only she had known that would mean abandoning the girl she loved to her death. Knowing that Weiss was going to die, and doing nothing about it… She was the worst kind of person.

Waking up, she had found that her dream tears had in fact been real ones. A mirror wasn't needed to know that her eyes were swollen and red. The trudge up the hill to the ruins of the temple had been the worst of her life. The sun might have been bright and the sky blue, but it wasn't to her. All she'd been able to see past the tears was grey. Her world would never be bright again.

In the end, she'd had no choice. No matter who it was. No matter that it was Weiss. The needs of everyone ultimately triumphed over her own. It would have been selfish beyond measure to pick her love. It wasn't who she was. Her mum would have been proud of her choice either way—she had been absolutely furious with Aurora—but Ruby could sense that, in the end, her mum had been even prouder that she'd chosen the world. It was what the characters from the stories would have done. What a hunter would do. The difference was they got happy endings. She never would.

The apologies of Aurora and the rest hadn't help. Seeing the state she was in they had even been hesitant on following through with their plan. As if they had thought making her choose wouldn't affect her at all, or at least that she would be able to master it.

As it was, she had still been crying when Juno made her sit in the middle of a ring of Dust. And she had still been crying when she'd appeared here an instant later. She didn't really know where  _here_  was. She hadn't concentrated on whatever Aurora and the rest had been saying. She hadn't been able to.

It was a forest at least. Somewhere between Vale and Vacuo. The blurred spot of light that was the sun told her she had teleported within the same time zone. Apparently Ozpin was meant to be around here somewhere. She couldn't face him in this state.

Ruby gritted her teeth. She balled her hands up into fists, tensed every muscle in her body, and tried to push thoughts of Weiss away. She couldn't. Weiss… was Weiss. She would forever be a part of her. The largest part. And after this day, that part of her would burn with the knowledge of what she had done. She might not have been able to do anything to stop the execution. She couldn't have fought her way through an army, but she could have tried.

It took her a long time to get herself under control. Fortunately, she had nothing but time. Aurora had told her she would have to wait for the other part of their plan to come to fruition. For Ozpin to be made vulnerable. So Ruby sat underneath the boughs of a tree and meditated. Forging her mind into a state where she was actually capable of fighting.

In an ideal world, she wouldn't have wanted to fight because she knew where that path would lead. Ozpin wouldn't surrender and, if his abilities were to be believed, they wouldn't have been able to hold him in a cell. By committing to this plan, Ruby had also committed to the outcome.

One of them would likely die and, if it were Ozpin, it would only have meant that she had killed again. Further stained her broken soul. It was worse than before. If the sin of killing could be worse. The two times before had been instinctive, spur of the moment, and in the heat of combat. This was cold and premeditated. Ozpin was a person she had once looked up to. Once liked even. Someone she had thought had embodied everything a hunter should be. How had it gone this wrong?

Ruby sat still, lost in her thoughts. Listening to the gentle rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The chirping and chittering of small animals nearby. Centering herself for what was to come. At the alarm on her scroll, she stood up, wiped the salt from her cheeks, and left the forest.

Waist-high golden grass stretched before her in a flat ocean. The late afternoon scent of flowers was thick in the air. Before she could stop it, the thought of being here with Weiss rose in her mind. Of lying the grass, talking, laughing, kissing. It almost broke her again. Almost, but not quite. She would always have her memories and her fantasies. They couldn't compare to the real thing, but it was at least something.

She didn't have far to travel. A few hundred metres in front of her, two figures waited. She recognised one, but not the other. Whatever Aurora had told Ozpin to get him here had worked, but he hadn't come alone like she had promised.

Ruby could have tried to sneak up on them, but she didn't have the heart to stab Ozpin or his companion in the back. She at least wanted to try talking first. Even when she could recognise how foolish that was, violence had to be a last resort.

It was just as well she hadn't tried stealth. Two more figures appeared from the grass. They'd been so well hidden Ruby could have sworn they'd been invisible. She didn't recognise them, but she didn't need to. They were young children, barely teenagers, a girl and a boy. They both held themselves with complete confidence and an unnatural stillness. They were Tinmen. She came to a halt hesitantly. Aurora had clearly underestimated Ozpin.

"You are Ruby Rose?" The girl spoke. It wasn't really a question. No doubt they had her photo in their memory banks, but she answered anyway.

"I am—"

"Ruby!" A shape lunged from the grass in a flying tackle. Ruby flared her Semblance, spinning away, leaving Penny only clutching air.

"Stay back." Ruby held out one hand, the other on Crescent Rose. She didn't want to draw it. She wished she didn't have to. Penny had once been her friend. But that was before. Before everything. Before she had killed Jaune. If it came down to it, Ruby wouldn't be killing her friend, only the soulless machine that wore her face. Or, at least that was what Ruby kept telling herself.

"Wh… what?" Penny's eyes were wide. "Ruby… It's me. Penny. Your friend. Don't you remember me?" Penny seemed genuinely confused.

Of course Ruby remembered. How could she have forgotten? She didn't know how to respond. Wasn't capable of responding.

Penny's face fell. "You're mad at me aren't you? I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. Father said I wasn't ready to fight in the tournament. He made me leave. I wanted to see you again. I tried to." She might have been android, but tears gathered in her eyes. She took a step forwards, not an aggressive one, more hopeless, hoping to catch Ruby's hand. Ruby took another step back.

She didn't understand. Penny's words made absolutely no sense. She hadn't said goodbye; that much was true. But only because she had killed Jaune and aided the fall of Vale. But according to her, she hadn't even taken part in the Vytal Festival.

"Penny…" Ruby said slowly. "You did fight in the tournament…"

"No I didn't." Penny shook her head, her orange hair whipping back and forth. "I wanted to. It's what I'd been working towards for months. I wanted to show everyone how good I was." She glowed with the same childish pride from years before. "But father wouldn't let me."

"You did… I watched you. There are videos."

"No!" Penny's shout was cut off by a hiccup. She covered her mouth in surprise. "There aren't." She was adamant. "I didn't. Don't you think I would remember? Why are you trying to trick me? Are you just trying to get back at me? That's not nice. I thought we were friends."

Ruby licked her lips. She didn't have a clue what was going on. There were videos. Lots of them. Either this was all some elaborate ruse, or Penny really didn't remember anything.

"Do you remember watching me take part?" Ruby asked. Those duels in front of the screaming crowds had been so long ago. When her life had been so easy and her future was set in stone.

"No." Penny hiccupped. "I mean yes. I mean…" She rubbed her temples with her knuckles, her face contorted, her eyes screwed shut. "I mean… I must have seen it on the TV."

Watching the turmoil such a simple question had caused, Ruby began to understand. Her tone became softer, sadder.

"Penny… you were in the stadium. You came down to congratulate me in the locker room afterwards."

"No I didn't!" Penny's voice rose again. "I told you. Father made me leave Vale."

Despite her better judgement, Ruby took a step forward. She couldn't stand seeing anyone like this. Even if it was Penny. Maybe especially because it was Penny.

"You were in Vale. You didn't leave."

"No! Please… Stop lying. It hurts." It seemed like it really did. Her skin was even paler than usual. "If I was there I would have stopped it. I would have been able to save everyone. Stop it all happening." She choked back a sob. "I wouldn't have been having all these dreams."

Penny really seemed to have no idea, no recollection of what she had done. That the only reason Vale had fallen was because of her. Upon hearing what had happened to Jaune, Ruby had refused to believe it. The idea that Penny could have killed him had been unimaginable. Over the years she had come to accept it as the truth, but maybe it wasn't. At least not the whole truth.

Maybe Penny couldn't remember because she hadn't been in control of her actions. Because she had just been a puppet to another's whims. Ruby's encounters with other Tinmen only showed how different Penny was. When chasing her, some Tinmen had seemed entirely emotionless, as if they were just mindless robots.

After years of separation, Penny had greeted her as a friend. That was how she still viewed her. She didn't see any reason why they shouldn't be. And, after all this time, Ruby longed to admit she had been wrong. That Penny was still the girl who had opened up to her. That there was one more person in the world whom she could call a friend. Ruby pushed all her doubts to the side. She didn't quite trust Penny, but she could give her a chance.

"It's good to see you."

Like a switch, the anger and confusion on Penny's face disappeared. She threw herself forward and this time Ruby didn't back away. Penny's hug felt as it always had, a mix of compassion and inexperienced awkwardness. It wasn't that surprising. Penny looked the same as well. Exactly the same. She hadn't aged a single day.

"What are you doing here?" Ruby asked. Having expected to find Ozpin alone, Penny and the rest had thrown her off balance.

"Father brought me." She waved at the man standing next to Ozpin.

"Your father?" Penny had mentioned him of course, but she had never introduced them. Ruby began to get a better of idea of just why Penny might have gaps in her memory.

"Yes. He told me it was going to be an important meeting, but he didn't say you were going to be here."

Despite the pain ravaging her heart, Ruby managed a fleeting smile. To Penny it was as if the last two years had never happened. She had picked straight back up with the same amount of breathless enthusiasm.

Her enthusiasm was unmatched by the other Tinmen. They stared with hard eyes and blank faces.

"There's a warrant out for your arrest."

"Don't be silly. This is Ruby," Penny answered them.

Ruby nudged her. "Actually Penny, there sort of is."

"Really?" She was even amazed by that.

"We must serve it. Place your weapon on the ground," the oldest Tinman spoke.

"No."

"You are at risk of escalating the situation. I will ask you once more."

"Stop being so silly. Ruby's my friend." Despite the levity in her tone, Ruby couldn't help but notice how Penny had moved between them slightly.

"I'm not here to fight you." Ruby's voice contained a confidence she didn't entirely feel. Beyond the two Tinmen, Ozpin looked straight at her. She stared right back.

"See?" Penny stuck at her tongue at them. They didn't rise to the bait, instead pulling back, and taking positions on her flanks. Ozpin must have passed a message to all of them.

"You will proceed forwards. You will not deviate." Under his direct command, the Tinmen lost all trace of their humanity. The orders came out flat. Ruby complied as Penny skipped forward, looping her arm through Ruby's.

As they walked, Penny leant in and whispered in her ear. "I don't like them." It wasn't hard to see why. Penny had always been so open, whereas they were closed. Perhaps the latest models of Tinmen were even more like robots.

Two years had passed. Two long years filled with hardship, but Ozpin looked exactly the same as the last time she'd seen him. Just like Penny. After everything, it shouldn't have surprised her, but it still did. Penny had an excuse. For Ozpin, it just wasn't right.

She stopped a short distance away from him and the person who must have been Penny's father. More Tinmen rose from the grass. Dozens of them. They took positions where they could intercede if necessary. So, Ozpin didn't trust her.

"Penny, come here," her father said.

"Why?"

"Because I said so." His tone was one Ruby recognised. Her dad had used it on more than one occasion, though usually in Yang's direction.

Penny looked between her father and Ruby, torn in two directions, confused as to why he was being so strict. She clutched Ruby's bicep.

"Leave it Joseph," Ozpin said with a tired voice. He nodded in Ruby's direction. The slightest tilt of the head. "I would like to think it pure coincidence that we ran across each other all the way out here. Logic does not stretch that far."

"No, it doesn't." There was no point hiding it. Ozpin had never shown himself to be stupid. He could put two and two together.

"A shame." He pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I never thought I would have to worry about her betraying me, but I suppose a meeting in the middle of nowhere was just too obvious. You can see I didn't come alone. But, that's enough about me. How are you Ruby? It has been a long time."

In that moment, he sounded exactly like her old headmaster. So exactly she only just caught herself from addressing him as professor. He wasn't that person anymore. The truth could be found in his actions.

"I would have been better if you hadn't chased me for two years."

"That… was not an ideal circumstance. But you must see that exceptions cannot be made. Especially not for someone as gifted as you." Neither he nor the Tinmen had the good graces to look ashamed. She even recognised some of them.

"There shouldn't have needed to be exceptions. What happened to the Hunter's Vow?"

"Exceptional times call for exceptional measures. You saw what the White Fang did to Vale. The world needed stability. That could never happen while the best and brightest of us went unregulated." He shook his head knowingly. "With enough money on the table, anyone can buy an elite force. Hunters needed regulation. I gave it, and put them to work benefiting the people. You can't deny the settlement program has been a success. Many people go months without even seeing the Grimm."

That much was true, a world without Grimm was worth fighting for, but other monsters had only taken their place. "They don't see freedom either. How many have you imprisoned in the name of justice? Killed?" Penny shuddered almost imperceptibly. Ruby only felt it through Penny's fingers on her arm.

"Only those who deserved it."

"Did I deserve it?"

"Ruby. When I met you, you were exceptional. It's not surprising given who your parents were. That's why I admitted you to Beacon early. You know your way around a scythe, but do not overstretch yourself. Sociology has never been your strong point." His smirk turned into a frown. "I'm just puzzled why Aurora chose you of all my old students? There are others who could argue much more effectively. Not that any could persuade us to divert from what must be done. Why didn't you just confront us yourself Aurora? We could have talked it all through instead of acting through a proxy."

Ozpin spoke to the air, as if he believed someone else was listening. Given what Ruby had seen of Titania, he might have been right. About that, but not about her. He still thought she was there to talk. To persuade him.

She could talk, though she hated being talked down to. It probably stemmed from being surrounded by people older than her at school. Her marks in the more academically obtuse subjects might not have been anything special, but it didn't mean she wasn't able to comment on them. She still knew right and wrong.

" _What must be done_. How many times have you said that over the centuries?"

Ozpin reappraised her. "So Aurora revealed more than I thought she would have."

Penny's father was one of them. Ruby was certain of that now. The only shock he'd shown was at the fact she knew, not at what she knew. Aurora had mentioned two other men, Dolos and Ioséphus. Which one he was, she didn't know.

"Aurora didn't tell me. I found out on my own." Despite the awful consequence of her discoveries, there was still a hint of pride in Ruby's voice.

"Really? Might I ask how?"

"There were only so many times I could read about a white sword before putting two and two together."

They'd both smiled, and Penny's father actually laughed. "I can't believe it took someone this long."

"Now Joseph, not everyone is as clever as you." Ozpin ran his thumb over the silver top of his cane, amusement in his eyes. "I always did wonder why no one noticed. It seemed so obvious to me. I could change how I looked, but not how I fought. I suppose it's fortuitous that white is considered a holy colour." He turned his attention back to her. "It seems you've exceeded my expectations again Ruby. Maybe Aurora was right to choose you. Not that it will make a difference. If you know about me, about us, then you know all we have done to keep the world safe."

Safe was one way of putting it. Ozpin and Joseph's world would be safe. There was no doubt about that. As long as you didn't put a toe out of line that was. Safety in exchange for liberty. The age-old trade off.

"I know what the world is like now. It's not one that I want to live in."

"No it's not. Not yet. There are still far too many people in this world that put their own well-being above others. They climb over others to get to the top. We're changing that. Under our guidance, everyone will prosper."

"Everyone? What about the Faunus?" she couldn't keep the anger from her tone.

"I suppose you mean the White Fang? It was regrettable, but they were terrorists. An example had to be set. You might not like what I did, but ask yourself this, have there been any more uprisings since? Ruby, even you must agree that in some exceptional circumstances lethal force is the only solution."

She had come to realise that. As much as she hated it, some people just couldn't be reasoned with. The White Fang would never have lain down their arms voluntarily. Neither would Ozpin. In that they were one and the same.

It was clear to her that she would never win an argument with him. Ozpin was too intelligent and too blinded to accept any view but his own. The last of her hopes at peaceful resolution began to slip away. They shouldn't have existed in the first place. If Aurora really believed he could have been reasoned with, she would have come herself. Instead she had sent Ruby.

Perhaps Ozpin took her silence to mean he had won her over, or perhaps not. Whatever the case, he changed the subject.

"You've been crying."

Ruby didn't want to think about why again. She couldn't help it at the reminder. Her reply came out flat and spent. "Weiss is going to die." Penny gasped.

"Ahh… yes. Unfortunate."  _Unfortunate._  If there was anything that made her want to strike him, that was it. To so callously write off Weiss' life. "She was a useful ally. I warned her about Vacuo. She didn't listen. I'm doing all I can to save her, but it likely won't be enough. I can't spare the resources." His airy indifference grated on her. "The Vacuans have put together an impressive plan. So impressive I know they weren't behind it. I could barely spare the time to come here. I wouldn't have if I had known only you would be. But at least there is one benefit. You're going to have to come with us."

Ruby took a step back, putting more space between them. Even Penny had managed to work out what he meant by that. Ruby stared at him.

"I can't let you go free. I can't make any exceptions. And, if Weiss survives, you will be a useful bargaining tool."

Is that all she was to him? Is that all people were? "I won't."

Ozpin bowed his head. "Ruby, don't try and fight. We both know you won't win." He addressed the Tinmen. "Take her in, but don't hurt her."

They started forward, their backs opening.

"No!" Penny pushed Ruby behind her, facing down the Tinmen. They came to a stop.

"Penny, come here!" Joseph said.

"No. I'm not going to let you."

Ozpin spoke in a softer tone. "You don't understand all the facts."

"I understand Ruby doesn't want to go with you." Penny gave her a glance just to check. Ruby was surprised, but nodded.

Just like it had been with her mum, after so long, it felt good to have someone in her corner again. Even if it was ultimately irrelevant. Aurora had told her to expect Ozpin. Instead there were two members of the Pantheon, and almost two dozen Tinmen. Faced with those odds, it didn't matter how good she was.

"Penny!" Joseph appeared to have lost patience. His voice was the stern tone that had been heard by daughters all over the world. "I need you to come here."

Penny took half a step towards him, before seeming to catch herself. The muscles along one side of her face twitched. For a moment her eyes rolled back in her head until only the whites showed. Her body spasmed as she fought against something. Something internal. Ruby had a good idea what.

"She's your daughter," Ruby spat in Joseph's direction. Seeing her friend in such pain stoked the fires of Ruby's already burning anger. "I know what you're doing to her."

"You know nothing." His face contorted.

"Maybe not, but I can guess. How many times have you done this to her? Made her do things she didn't want to? Made her forget? She's not your daughter. She's your slave." How could he even bear to look himself in the mirror? Ruby made another connection in her head. "Wait… you made her kill Jaune!"

Penny twitched when she heard the name, her pupils returning. "No." Penny shook her head vigorously back and forth. "I saw him a couple of months ago. He was with Pyrrha."

Ruby grabbed her arm, pulling her around. She wasn't angry at her, but she was furious with Joseph. What had he done to her? "Penny. You didn't. Jaune's—"

"Do not dare say another word!" Joseph interrupted her.

"Or what? I haven't been programmed to obey you." She turned back to Penny. Looked deep into her eyes. This would hurt her, but it was for her own good. "Jaune's dead, Penny. He died in Vale."

"No… I saw him…"

"You didn't. If you did, where is he now? What did he do after you saw him? And why hasn't he contacted me?"

"He… he… was with father…"

"No he wasn't." It must just have been another fiction inserted into her mind. "Think back. Try and remember. There must be holes. And think back to Vale. You were there. I promise I'm telling the truth."

Joseph had heard enough. "Penny, I need you to come here."

Penny twitched, and for the first time that Ruby had known her, she appeared angry. It just looked so wrong on her. "No!" she shouted.

Joseph's mouth fell open slightly. "I need you to come here."

This time she didn't move. "No! I won't!"

"I'm your father!"

"I don't care!"

"Penny! I need you to be quiet. I need you to step away from Ruby. I need you to listen to me."

"No I won't! You… you… you killed them didn't you?" Her voice broke. "You killed Jaune and Pyrrha… I… I remember…"

Ruby's heart froze. It still didn't make sense to her, but Penny sounded certain about that. Had Jaune somehow survived Vale? If he had, it was like losing him all over again.

Joseph's face had gone white, and some of the other Tinmen had turned towards him. "What?"

"They let me go. You promised! Then you killed them!"

"I didn't."

"Don't lie!" Penny screamed with the anguish of her entire world collapsing around her. "I can feel the holes. I can remember now. Even if you didn't want me to. How much more have you made me forget? Would you have made me forget this too?"

Ruby didn't understand any of this, but she understood that her friend was in pain. She placed her hand on Penny's back. She didn't say anything. There wasn't anything she could say.

Ozpin turned to his companion. "We don't have time for this. I need to get back to Vale."

Joseph nodded. He had been rocked back by the venom in Penny's tone, but his jaw jutted. "Activate shutdown procedure gamma-delta-foxtrot."

Penny's head drooped forwards before snapping back up. "No! I'm not a robot! I'm a real person! I'm your daughter!"

Ozpin pressed a finger between his eyes, breathing out deeply. "The rest of you have your orders. Take them both in. But don't hurt them."

The Tinmen started forward again. Ruby couldn't resist the urge to draw Crescent Rose any longer.

"No!" Penny held her hands out. "You're my brothers and sisters. If it's happened to me, it must have happened to you as well. We shouldn't fight! You're all people too. Think for yourselves."

Penny implored them all. Some stopped moving, their eyes flicking rapidly around. They underwent the same journey of discovery Penny had undergone. Some even came to stand next to her. Others didn't. The two sets faced each other down.

"Really?" Ozpin glared at Joseph. "Get your creations under con—"

Ozpin grunted as if he had been shot. Light blistered from his skin. Pulsing and gyrating from the Dust infused just underneath. His body trembled, his muscles out of control, he fell to his knee. Looking up at Ruby, at her deployed weapon, he began to understand. "What did you do!" His roar was filled with pain.

"Dad!" Penny's cry joined Ozpin's. Her father had been similarly afflicted by whatever Aurora had done. The other Tinmen blocked her path to him.

Ozpin didn't wait for an answer to his question. He couldn't afford to wait. Not with the weapon of his would be assassin deployed and a mutiny among his enforcers. "Kill her!"

Swords rose into the air. Hundreds of them. First from the Tinmen nearest Ozpin, then the ones facing them.

"No! We don't have to fight!" Despite her shout, Penny deployed her own weapons. The other Tinmen were too far gone to hear her.

A sword flashed towards Ruby, and all hell broke loose.

Another blade intercepted it in mid-air. They moved so fast they were just blurs. The two sets of Tinmen. The two sets of enforcers that had captured and killed experienced hunters across an entire continent, clashed together.

Even with her Semblance, Ruby could barely follow it all. None of them were holding anything back. They couldn't afford to. Ozpin's Tinmen had no expressions on their faces. They were just mindless robots. But for the first time, Penny's brothers and sisters were not. They fought for something. They fought for Penny. They fought for their stolen childhoods. And they fought for Ruby.

A Tinman jumped at her. Another Tinman tackled him in flight. They rolled through the grass lashing out, their blades clashing above them. Ruby dove aside from another set of blades that had been intent on burrowing into her heart. Two Tinmen followed soon after. A boy and a girl. They had slipped through the cordon. All her defenders were occupied in a series or running skirmishes that carried them ever further away.

Her attackers walked towards her slowly, spreading out to flank her. They knew how good she was. They wouldn't take her lightly.

"Please… please…" Ruby stepped backwards, willing them to stop their advance. She didn't want to do this. She had prepared for Ozpin. Not them.

It was no use. Their legs bunched beneath them, and Ruby flared her Semblance. Time slowed. She witnessed with excruciating length as they lunged forward, their swords spinning. It was said they were unbeatable. She had run from Tinmen many times. But she couldn't today. Not after the sacrifice she had made to be here. Her finger found the button grafted onto Crescent Rose's haft. She leapt to the attack.

Two slashes. Not even two heartbeats. That was all it took. Two untouched bodies sailed past her, skidding through the grass. They didn't rise. Ruby did. Crescent Rose loomed above her. Its blade glowed bright white in the sun.

She had only used the Dust Weiss had given her once before when she'd tested her makeshift alterations. The trees and rocks had proved no barrier to her scythe, but it hadn't prepared her for what she'd done to the Tinmen. Their corpses were unmarked. They could have been sleeping. If only it were true. Instead their souls had been ripped out of their bodies. Perhaps they floated around her now, lamenting the person who killed them.

Whatever had happened to Ozpin and Joseph had stopped. Ozpin looked up at her white blade, his jaw jutting, fury emanating from him in waves. They rolled over her. He gripped his cane with both hands, his knuckles popping out from his skin.

By design or accident, she, Ozpin, and Joseph were on an island of tranquillity while a battle raged all around. A laser flashed, and a Bullhead plummeted from the sky. The ground rocked as it crashed. Joseph looked around in fear as his creations ran amok. He looked at his hands which still shook, and he began to back away. Ozpin just stood, glaring at her.

"What did you do?" he repeated. Ruby could only shrug. She didn't know. "Aurora!" he shouted into the empty air. "You've come here to kill me."

It wasn't a question. Slowly, he drew Umbraspem from its sheath. Ruby had held it before. Back in the fall of Vale when Ozpin had been injured. That was the first time she'd become aware of the power of White Dust weaponry. It had sunk into concrete as if it were air.

For a sword that had inspired so many stories, Umbraspem wasn't all that impressive. It was small, only a few fingers wide and a couple of feet long. Its design was one of simplicity, but it was exceptional. Whereas her blade burned through her reserves of White Dust, Ozpin's was forged from it.

It was remarkable, but it appeared different from how she remembered. Apparently it was the same for Ozpin. His mouth opened as he looked at the weapon that had been by his side for millennia. The pure white of the Dust was now marred. Coloured patches ran up and down it, fading from existence before reappearing. The predominant colour was black.

"What did you do?" Ozpin enunciated every word. He let the sheath fall to the floor. It wouldn't do him any good in the upcoming fight.

"I don't know. I didn't want any of this."

"No one wants any of this! That's life! But you are here and so am I. You came here to kill me. To try and undo all my good work. I once thought you were a hope for the world, but you are nothing more than an easily led foolish little girl. Whatever you have done, it will not be enough. I will not allow anyone to divert the world from the path it must go down."

Still in the grips of her Semblance, feeling his words travelling through the air between them, Ruby noticed a disturbance. Just to her side the air shifted, as if it were being repelled. As if something was materialising and pushing the air back. Aurora had told her of Ozpin's Semblance, and she'd seen it in action herself. One Ozpin would likely be difficult enough. She couldn't face several.

Just as the ghost of a solid shape began to assert itself, Ruby darted over and brought the White blade of Crescent Rose down. The world cried out in torment. It was like a bubble in space-time had just been popped. Its very fabric wobbled as the link Ozpin had formed with another world collapsed in on itself.

Ozpin hissed out a breath, the energy he'd put into powering his Semblance snapping back at him. He didn't waste time with words. At seeing his trick fail, he lunged at her. Ruby blocked his strike. A pulse of force erupted from where their two white Dust-imbued blades met. Almost like thunder without sound. It shook her organs and flattened the grass near them.

Ruby didn't have time to contemplate just what it was. Ozpin rolled his sword around her blade and came at her side. She took two quick steps backwards, trying to create distance. It was hard for her. Normal she would parry with the haft of Crescent Rose, or its butt. Here she couldn't. It would only take one slip up for Ozpin to carve her weapon into two. She could only meet his blade with her own, and hers was significantly harder to wield.

Her Semblance should have proved his undoing. Crescent Rose was little more than a white blur amongst petals floating on the air. She was faster than him, much faster. It didn't matter. As she spun and ducked, he was always there. Always ready to attack or defend. Aurora had told her he could see the future. Now she believed her.

It was impossible. She couldn't work the slightest opening, and it was only her Semblance which saved her time and time again. Without it he would have speared her in a fraction of a second. The legends had not been wrong. Ozpin was the most skilled fighter she'd ever faced. It was almost as if she were fighting Qrow again in the days after she'd picked up a scythe for the first time. Compared to Ozpin, she was a clumsy amateur. If this was meant to be him when he was weakened and vulnerable, she shuddered to think what he would have been like at his full strength. Fierce enough to send armies running no doubt.

The only way she could stay alive was to keep moving, to continue backing away, ceding ground. Her single advantage was the mass of Crescent Rose. It made it slow to bring to bear but, when she struck, Ozpin couldn't parry fully. Umbraspem was light and only just had room for both of his hands on the grip.

Ruby made use of the discovery. She stopped trying to attack him with every strike and instead focussed on building up her momentum. Keeping Crescent Rose moving, spinning round and round. Sometimes Ozpin leant back just far enough that her blade tickled his skin, but he always seemed to know exactly where her blade would fall.

As she became a spinning tornado of white death, he couldn't reach her. He took a step backwards. Ruby almost missed the pop in the air. Tearing away from him, she brought Crescent Rose down on the almost-figure. There was the same wobble. The same complaint from the universe, but the figure faded from existence.

A sword lunged at her back. She felt it cleaving through the air. She parried instinctively, and there she made a mistake. Umbraspem sheared straight through the bottom of Crescent Rose. A few inches of her beloved weapon fell to the ground. Ruby pulled back and immediately noticed a difference. Bereft of the counter-weight spike at the bottom, Crescent Rose had lost the perfection of balance. She had to fight it as much as Ozpin. The weapon that had been as much a part of her body as her foot became foreign to her.

It was in those moments she started to doubt. Started to realize she was going to die.

Up to this point, she'd been purely focussed on the clash of their blades. On combat. She had never really thought about what would happen if she lost. Part of that had been arrogance for certain, but a greater part had been sense. She hadn't wanted her mind clouded.

Now it was. Now—as she wrestled with her weapon, every one of Ozpin's attacks coming closer and closer—she couldn't help but think about her mortality. About everything she stood to lose. She didn't care about her own life, that had been lost along with Weiss'. But she cared about her sister, her dad, her friends. Would Aurora tell them she had died? Or would they simply think her lost again? Never answering their calls until they were slowly forced to admit the truth?

She didn't want to put them through that. Only once before had she faced someone as skilled as Ozpin. Back then she didn't have the experience she had now, but she had felt equally outclassed by Erashan. Knowing she wasn't going to win if she carried on fighting the same way, Ruby poured more into her Semblance, and disengaged.

After a few moments, Ozpin stopped trying to chase her. Ruby ran in a circle around him, petals trailing behind her, whipped up by the wind she called. The red spots of colour grew into a swirling wall, and still she didn't stop. Ozpin wasn't idle either. He tried to call more of his alternate-selves. Sometimes straining to create two or more bridges at once. Each time Ruby had to break off from her preparations, severing the links. It drained her as much as it drained him.

Ruby didn't think, didn't prepare. As soon as the instinct took her, the spinning tornado collapsed inwards. In the swirling mass of red she could barely see, barely feel. She relied purely on her muscle memory. They clashed in the middle of the maelstrom.

So sharp were their blades that petals were sliced cleanly. The eruptions of invisible force blew them away. But the wind brought more in. Ruby had to blink them out of her eyes, spit them out of her mouth, but so did Ozpin. Her strategy had put him off balance, but he wasn't down.

It had been her hope that the tens of thousands of petals would have overloaded his Semblance. Made it impossible for him to track them all and, by extension, her. It hadn't worked. No matter how hard or quick her attack, he always had a parry and riposte ready.

Her body cried out. Keeping this much air in motion pushed her Semblance to the limit. Her muscles burned with built-up acid. She couldn't do anything. Ozpin was just too strong.

How had she ever thought to beat someone who could see the future? He knew everything that would happen. He could see every one of her attacks. Parried perfectly. He even moved before she did.

_Before she did._

Ozpin could see the future. He couldn't keep up with her speed, but he didn't need to. He made sure his sword was in the ideal position to block before she had even completed her attack. She would never be able to beat him fighting like she had been. As if she had been fighting a normal foe. The petals weren't enough. She needed to change.

Ruby cleared her mind. Let her body go loose. Even closed her eyes. She pushed her Semblance, feeling the air around her. Feeling every petal swirling on the breeze. Feeling how her body created wind as she stepped back and forth. And feeling how Ozpin's own displaced the air.

Ruby didn't plan to attack. She just did as her reflexes told her. Crescent Rose swung, whistling through the air, straight towards Ozpin. He was already moving, twisting a quarter turn, bringing Umbraspem up to meet the attack that was still aeons away.

She wrenched the bulk of Crescent Rose to the side, straining the muscles of her shoulders with the effort. She ripped it from the instinctive path of her attack, from the path that would have seen it collide with Umbraspem, and changed its trajectory. Ozpin had anticipated her attacking his front. By moving his sword, he had shown her just what was going to happen. He had let her see the future. And if she could see it, she could change it.

In the microcosm of time, she felt Ozpin react to this new future. Try to bring his sword to bear. To leap out of the way. Without the full advantage of precognition, he wasn't close to fast enough. Crescent Rose took him in the stomach. It passed through his body without resistance and emerged from the other side.

Ruby spun away. Ozpin fell backwards to the ground, Umbraspem tumbling from his fingers. Ruby remained ready, prepared. Ozpin didn't rise. Couldn't rise. His legs were lifeless. They didn't even twitch. Ruby let the winds grow still.

Petals drifted downwards. Thousands and thousands of spots of red. They covered the golden grass in a carpet. They got caught in Ruby's hair. And they fell like a shroud over Ozpin. His fingers clawed at his legs, prodding, massaging. Trying to make them feel.

Looking down at him—so desperate, almost confused—empathy filled Ruby. She knew what she had done. Though his body may have lacked a wound, her White Dust weapon had severed the link of his consciousness with his spine.

It was marvel he wasn't dead. Normally a strong hunter could perhaps survive a White Dust weapon passing through a limb, but not their torso. Like the Tinmen it would have killed them instantly. Only Ozpin's immense Aura kept him alive, but the Dust crystals under his skin were no longer shining. With Aurora's plan, he couldn't call upon power from elsewhere. He tried to push himself up with his arms. They shook.

Ruby walked closer. As her battle had ended, so had the ones all around her. Or maybe they already had and she hadn't noticed? Flicking the button on Crescent Rose's haft, the blade returned to grey. There was no triumph in victory for her. No celebration that she'd overcome unimaginable odds. Only regret. Ozpin may have been a tyrant in the end, but she had respected him once. He had given her the chance to be the person she was today. She would never forget that.

She stowed Crescent Rose on her belt. It wouldn't be needed. She knelt next to him. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Not save him. She didn't even know if that were possible. Only to make him more comfortable.

There could have been anger in his eyes as he looked up at the person who had killed him. He could have shouted at her. Sworn his revenge. No doubt Ozpin had witnessed the very scene a thousand times before from the other perspective. He knew how pathetic it looked. There wasn't anger in his voice, only tiredness and regret.

"You don't know what I did for mankind. What I still do."

She did. Between her own discoveries and Aurora, she did. Ozpin and the Pantheon had guided humanity. They had done good. They had ensured its survival. They had given everyone the gift of the Dust. They had made it so society could flourish. That it could reach the state that it was today. Without Ozpin and the Pantheon, mankind might well have been driven to extinction.

But they had done evil as well. They had decided what was best, and carried out the acts. Even when it involved genocide. Wiping out entire cities and civilization for the benefit of others. And today, in Ozpin's utopia, there was no freedom. Only another brewing war. It may well have been the case that Ozpin could have succeeded. That he would have created a world that was perfect, but it would only have come with the deaths of hundreds of thousands. Even for a kingdom of heaven, that was a calculation Ruby couldn't accept.

As he lay there, Ruby could have argued again, this time with her victory assured, but that would have been vindictive. She took his hand. It was soft. Not like hers. "I know. But others will take up your burden."

The idea seemed to please him. He smiled. "Will you?"

Ruby didn't need long to answer. "I will. Though my way, not yours. I'll keep  _my_  Hunter's Vow."

Ozpin dragged down some breaths, each weaker than the last. "You didn't like it, but I saved humanity."

Ruby didn't want to argue with a dying man, but she couldn't let that statement go unanswered.

"No you didn't. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve? You would have kept it stationary. Maybe people would have been safe, but society would have stagnated. It needs challenges. It's the only way it can grow, become better."

Ozpin coughed. It might have been a laugh. Ruby wasn't sure. "I'll guess we'll have to agree to disagree. You know, if I thought anyone would have been able to beat me, it was you. Victory is in a simple soul."

"Why do you keep saying that? Aurora said something similar. I'm not simple. I'm not a blank slate. I wish I was." Some of her anguish ripped out from her. "It would make all this easier. I wouldn't have to feel terrible about this. I wouldn't miss my sister. It wouldn't hurt so much. My soul isn't simple. Anyone's who is, isn't truly alive. I am who I am, because of my love, and my pain. If I was simple, I would have given up a thousand times. Instead I found the strength to go on. If you believe victory is in the simpler things, you are so wrong. You've always been wrong." Tears crept down her face again.

"Perhaps…" Ruby waited for more. A rebuttal or an agreement. It didn't come. Ozpin stared up sightlessly at the sky. His chest stilled.

Ruby looked at him. Looked at the man she had set out to kill. Her old headmaster. A god. An enigma in modern times. Someone who was loved by most who he had ruled. It was very possible that they would blame her. That she would be an outlaw forever more. It hardly mattered. Without Weiss, her life was over anyway.

Ruby sat there, smelling the petals all around, listening to the rustle of the grass, and holding a cooling hand. She had closed his eyes, but still sat there, defeated. There was no point going on. Nothing to strive for.

"Ruby? What's wrong?"

Ruby blinked the tears from her eyes. Penny stood next to her. Her dress had been torn. Her flesh was marred by dozens of silver scratches, but at least she still stood. So did some of her brothers and sisters. And her father. Joseph hadn't made it far. He stared at Ozpin's corpse. At the person whom he had known for millennia.

Ruby couldn't answer. Not really. Her suffering transcended words. Still, Penny was her friend. She had helped her. Made this possible. Without her, she would be dead. Just like Weiss…

"It's Weiss."

"Oh… You said she was going to die?"

Ruby nodded, and went back to staring at Ozpin. She had made the choice. Ozpin over Weiss. It had cost her everything.

"Going to?"

"Yes." Her voice broke and she dissolved into fresh sobs. Weiss was going to die, and as Ruby pictured the future without her, she wanted to die too.

"So it hasn't happened yet?" Penny asked, her tone confused.

It was the confusion that broke Ruby's stupor. Penny was confused. Confused at why she was kneeling here. Why she was just waiting. Why she had given up.

_Why had she?_

She was still alive. It was the future, but it wasn't necessarily inevitable. Just like she had against Ozpin, she could change it. Aurora hadn't told her the exact time, or even the date. She had only said that Ruby would have to choose between the world and Weiss.

She had made her decision. Now she changed it. She chose both. She was somewhere between Vale and Vacuo. Hundreds or maybe thousands of miles from Alfurat, but she couldn't just sit here. She wouldn't. Not while breath remained in her body. Weiss needed her.

Ruby stood. She would have liked to bury Ozpin, but she didn't have the time. The needs of the living outweighed those of the dead. And Weiss wasn't dead yet. Couldn't be dead yet.

Everyone else must have come in airships, but they were in pieces on the ground. Juno could have transported her to Alfurat in a heartbeat, but if Ozpin's power was gone, so was hers. Penny and her siblings would help, but in this Ruby knew she was on her own. With only her own two feet. They would have to be enough. She took Penny's hands briefly. She wished she could stay for longer. Talk. She couldn't.

"Thank you."

"I'll come with you." Ruby knew Penny meant it.

"I'm sorry. You can't." A Tinman had once chased her for over a hundred miles. He had been so close to catching her. But, back then, she hadn't had the motivation she had now. Penny would only slow her down.

Penny perhaps understood. "Good luck. I'll see you again."

Ruby nodded. She looked up at the sun, got her bearings, and turned her gaze eastwards. She began to jog. A few steps later she began to run. Then she began to sprint flat-out.

Thunder boomed from a cloudless sky as a blur streaked across the landscape.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed that. We're almost at the end. Next week will be the final chapter in the trilogy. Thanks for reading.


	30. Chapter 30

Weiss waited. The waiting was the worst part. That and living with her utter stupidity. She was glad her father couldn't see her now. He was surely rolling over in his grave at what his idiotic daughter had gotten herself into. Her mother would have simply wept.

It still seemed unreal to Weiss that she had believed Badr. Believed that all that would have happened was a couple of months in jail. She had never been that gullible before. She had always treated every single offer with suspicion, even offers as simple as running a hot bath. But then she had met Ruby.

Ruby had changed her for the better. There was no doubt about that. The untrusting, abused girl she had been was dead. She had discovered what it was like to have friends. To be liked. To be able to talk about inconsequential things. And to be loved. Ruby's love had made everything worth it. Even dying.

Before Ruby, Weiss would never have believed Badr capable of telling the truth, but she didn't regret knowing her. Not one bit. She could only regret that she would never see her again. At least, not until Ruby passed from this life.

Weiss had never been religious. She still wasn't, but her impending death made her think. She wanted to believe there was somewhere after. Somewhere where no one had to worry about the Grimm or bad people. Somewhere where Amber and Lyra were happy together. It was a hopeful dream, and one that worried her.

If a place like that was only reserved for good people, where would she end up? She wasn't good. She could see her blackened soul in the mirror now. In the indomitable wait for her death, she'd had a lot of time to think back over her life, and particularly the past two years.

Starting from the day she had taken command of ADRG, she'd done an awful lot of wrong. She had killed an awful lot of people who didn't deserve to die. Her moral defence had always been that the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few. It had been mathematics to her. It hadn't been easy, but it hadn't been that hard either.

Even now, she didn't know whether she had been right or not. It was impossible to tell how the world would have ended up without her actions. Maybe the White Fang would still be in power. Maybe Atlas would have been rent and split into warring kingdoms. She just couldn't tell. The vast majority of the people in Atlas were happy. That at least gave her the courage to say she hadn't been a brutal dictator. Maybe a misguided one, but not needlessly cruel.

It didn't excuse the deaths—or the disappearances—all in the name of stability. If she had the chance again, she would do so many things differently. Not rule with an iron fist, but with a velvet tongue. Had people sit down and reach amiable solutions. She should have done it that way from the start. Maybe then none of this would ever have happened, and Ruby wouldn't have left her.

After days and days of self-contemplation, there was no doubt in her mind that Ice Queen deserved to die. Maybe she had killed the Vacuan citizen as she was accused, or maybe not. In the end, it didn't matter. He was only one on a long list of people who tugged on her conscience. She couldn't even remember them all. The list was too long.

The Ice Queen deserved to die. Weiss wouldn't fight it in any way. Not that it would have made a difference. Her future was set in stone. She had accepted it and, it was her hope that in doing so, she would appease the ghosts who undoubtedly haunted her. That maybe, just maybe, her atonement and punishment would be enough to cleanse her soul. To allow her to see Lyra and Amber again and, when the time came, Ruby as well. It was an idle hope, but it was all she had to cling to.

Weiss looked out her window at the sun. At least she had a window now. After her confession, she had been moved. She no longer sat in chains on the hard cold floor. Instead she was in a bedroom; it was one with bars on the window, but it was infinitely preferable. She had a bed, a toilet, a shower, a desk, clean clothes. Badr had at least kept that side of their bargain. The room was comfortable.

Her hands were free as well. They'd removed the gloves after seeing she'd accepted her fate. She could probably use her Semblance, maybe even break out, but it would have been useless. She couldn't fight her way through an army, and there was something in her food that kept her Aura weak. It was probably for the best. It removed any false hopes that might have lingered, that might have driven her insane.

Weiss sat before the small mirror she had requested in her pristine white dress and combed her hair. In long sweeping strokes, she returned it to the glory that had been lost in her time in the cell. Pampering herself had always helped her relax and, as she counted to one hundred, it didn't fail now.

It was the strangest feeling. She had always thought that she would fight tooth and nail to cling onto her life. Yet, here she was, just meekly accepting it. Trying to make herself look presentable for her death. She pinned her hair up into a delicate bun, leaving her long neck entirely bare. She didn't want any complications.

Her face came next. The makeup set was primitive, but it was functional. The only section that remained untouched were the eyeliners and shadow. They would only accentuate any tears that managed to slip out past her barriers.

Weiss smiled at her reflection and checked the sun. She was ready. Now all that was left was the waiting. The hands in her lap shook just slightly. The smallest tremor. She tried to still them. She couldn't. Not quite.

Winter had been furious with her of course. They had been allowed to talk. Weiss could only be glad that Winter had been given the chance to freshen up as well. It would have broken her to see someone as normally well-presented as Winter chained up in a dungeon. Winter had urged her to escape, even if they both couldn't.

Weiss had been the big sister then. She wouldn't put Winter in jeopardy. At the moment, Winter was safe. Weiss realised now that both she and her father and kept Winter isolated from the more incorrigible parts of their business. Winter's conscience was clean. Maybe they would release her, or maybe they would continue to hold her, but Vacuo had no grounds to press for execution. All of their family's crimes died with her. She had made sure to include that in her confession. It would be her parting gift.

If there was one last wish that could have been granted to her, it would have been to see Ruby again, even for a moment. Just one last glimpse of the person who owned her heart. She could only hope that Ruby would understand why she was doing this. That it was her way of saying sorry to all those she had wronged. That she accepted Ruby had been right about so many things. Weiss had written her a letter; whether it would be delivered or not, she didn't know.

Weiss sat in the chair before the mirror, clasping her hands, her stomach fluttering. Strangely she had felt worse waiting for a big exam. There were nerves, but they weren't terrible. She supposed that came with acceptance.

From outside in the corridor came the sounds of heavy boots. It was a familiar noise, but an unfamiliar pattern. Rather than the lone guard on patrol, there was more than one pair. The locks on her door rattled.

Weiss stood, smoothing her skirt, checking her reflection one last time. If there was one thing Weiss was certain of, it was that she wouldn't beg. She wouldn't struggle. If the people coming to watch expected entertainment, she wouldn't give to them. She would face her death with her head held high. She would face it as a Schnee, with honour.

The door to her cell opened and two guards entered. Weiss took a deep breath. She was ready.

* * *

 

Ruby's lungs burned. That wasn't entirely true. They were a long way past burning. Her entire body was on fire. Her feet were swollen and bloody lumps with ruined leather attached to them. She had run… she didn't rightly know how many miles. All she knew was that she had beaten the sun across Vacuo. It was higher in the sky than when she had left Ozpin's corpse.

She didn't know what the people who'd have seen her were thinking. She had run fast. Faster than she had ever run in her life. Fast enough that if had felt more akin to flying. It had been luck more than anything that had brought her to the first town. She had stolen a bike. It hadn't been close to fast enough, but it had allowed her to rest. She'd redlined the engine until it had run out of fuel. The moment the bike stopped, she had started running again. The cops chasing her along the desert road had been left behind in the blink of an eye.

The cars on the road had been just a blur to her. Even at their top speed they'd be barely moving. Her passage had rocked them on their wheels and shattered windows. At any other time the collateral damage would have horrified her. At this moment, she didn't care in the slightest.

Through a combination of running and theft she had made it to Alfurat, praying that she wasn't too late. The crowd-filled streets under the burning sun told her she wasn't. It hadn't been hard to find where the execution was to take place. She just had to follow everyone else.

In the throng her going was slow. She couldn't run, and was forced to roughly push people aside, ignoring their protests. They made her sick. Not a single thread of her body could make her understand why someone would choose to watch a spectacle as grisly as this.

They weren't just watching it though. Everyone she passed was in good cheer. One person had even been selling t-shirts. The slogans and images on them had made her want to vomit. She wished she could have spared a few seconds to set the stall alight. But she couldn't. Not now when she was so close.

In the main square before the palace people were packed shoulder to shoulder. They could barely move. The smarter ones had brought hats or umbrellas for shade. The others baked in the sun.

Ruby dove into the crowd. From where she was she couldn't see anything. Her extra muscle came in handy as she powered her way through. The stench of sweat and body odour was nauseating. A cheer welled up. Jeers quickly followed. People shouted out slurs and insults with a venom entirely misplaced. She was running out of time.

Stuck in the mix, she brought her elbows into play. She jabbed them into ribs and slipped through the gaps they created. She picked up speed again. And now closer to the front, she caught glimpses of a wooden a stage. Of lots of figures. And of one in bright white.

Ruby's heart stopped before the sight of Weiss was lost to her once more. Her elbows became more active. Anything that was being said on the stage was drowned out between the blood pounding in her ears and the crowd's shouts of detest.

She fought her way right to front, her desperation giving her one last burst of energy. Weiss knelt. Despite everything Ruby had gone through to get here, she couldn't help feeling Weiss had never looked more beautiful than in this moment. In her white dress, with her long blemish-free neck bared, her hair done to perfection. The sight took the last remnants of Ruby's breath away. It was only then that she realised why Weiss was kneeling, or why a figure in black stood behind her.

Ruby leapt the waist-high metal fence. One of the guards grabbed her. She punched him straight in the nose. Bones shattered. She flared her Semblance, putting everything she had into one last burst of speed as she crossed the open ground before the platform.

Time slowed. The guards behind her shouted, their cries strangely elongated. Some of those on the stage began to react to the intruder, raising their fingers ever so slowly. Weiss' eyes widened. She opened her mouth.

A blade flashed in the sun.

A red line blossomed along her neck.

Ruby stumbled, mere feet from the stage.

Her world ended.

The clarity provided by her Semblance was awful. She saw every spurt of blood. Every twitch in the vein at Weiss' temple. She saw as gravity took its hold. As the head began to slide. As the body fell.

A weight hit her from behind, bearing her to floor. She didn't care. Didn't fight. What was the point? She was still numb. She had raced all the way across Vacuo, and she'd been too late by a fraction of a second. For the first time, her Semblance had let her down. Life held no meaning anymore.

A shape fell from the stage. It rolled towards her, coming to rest inches away. As bodies piled on top of her, Ruby could only stare sightlessly into sightless eyes. They were still brilliant cerulean, but they didn't contain a hint of the warmth, or love, or compassion, or the million other things Ruby had seen every time she had looked into them before. Instead they were cold and dead.

Weiss was gone.

There was no point in existing anymore. She wanted to die. Wanted the people on top of her to crush her so they could be together again. There was so much Ruby had wanted to say to Weiss, but one thing most of all; she loved her and wouldn't leave her again. They'd find a way to make it work.

Now they couldn't. She had left too late. The future  _was_ set in stone. She had chosen to kill Ozpin rather than save Weiss. She could only hope her own execution would follow soon after. She didn't deserve to live anymore. She was the lowest kind of person. She might have saved the world, but it didn't matter.

Looking into Weiss' glassy eyes, Ruby only wanted to die.

The days of repentance are full of sinners, and in betraying the love of her life, her soulmate, she had sinned most of all.

* * *

 

**Ten Years Later**

Ruby knelt by the gravestone. With steady hands she removed the wilted flower from the simple vase and replaced it with a fresh one. A single white rose. She stroked the petals. They were so soft, and she made sure to avoid the thorns.

It was a bittersweet experience coming back here. She wanted to pay her respects to the person she had loved so much, but it was also painful. A reminder that they were gone. That she would never see them again.

Even so, she tried to make the trip every year. She couldn't always, sometimes her other commitments conspired against her. It was for that reason she started with an apology.

"Sorry I haven't come by in a while. Things have been... well, things have been, pretty busy. I'm sure you understand though. I know you're still watching over me." Ruby smiled down at the rose. It might have been an expression meant to convey joy, but instead it was filled with sorrow and regret.

"Yang and Blake say they're sorry too. They really wanted to be here, but Blake couldn't get away from the Council. She actually won the election! Can you imagine that? A Faunus? People actually voted for her, humans too. It's fantastic. But I don't think I've ever seen her so stressed. She sent Yang running for the hills out of fright more than once." She couldn't help but give a small giggle. "But I've never seen her so happy. She's the first Faunus Councillor in history, but she swears she's not going to be the last.

"I don't think she would have been able to cope without Yang beside her. Things got pretty nasty. You should have seen some of the ads her opponents were running. They were disgusting… They didn't matter in the end. She won fair and square. So I hope you can understand why they're not here at the moment. But they both promised to visit when they get the chance.

"Dad's doing well. He and Raven are thinking of getting married. I'm happy for them. I know it wasn't an easy decision, but I think they deserve it. Uncle Qrow's good as well. He's really enjoying Beacon. It's a big step up from Signal when it comes to what he can throw at the students. Of course it helps that Doctor Oobleck is the headmaster. He's smoothed over a couple of… umm I guess you could call them misunderstandings on proper forms of discipline." Ruby laughed. It was a laugh tinged by sadness, but a laugh all the same. Even if Qrow was making the fresh hunters' lives hell, it would be worth it in the end. He was a great teacher.

"Umm… what else has happened?" While she thought, Ruby spat on her handkerchief and cleaned some of the grime from the stone. "Oh yeah, Velvet published another book. I'm not sure I've forgiven her though. Who knows how many kids are going to have to suffer their way through it in lessons? It's not fair. But I've been told it's really good. So I suppose they'll learn something. Coco made her model at her latest fashion show again. Velvet's used to it by now, but she still blushes. It's kind of cute really. The press thinks so too.

"Ren and Nora opened their second orphanage last week. It's not too far from the first. I don't have a clue how Ren manages to cope with Nora and all those hyper-active kids. I guess he meditates or something. They've asked me to pay them a visit soon.

"I saw Penny the other day. That's still a little weird. She looks exactly the same as before. She and her dad." Killing the dragon on Menagerie hadn't done permanent damage to the members of the Pantheon. Penny's dad was still around, as were the rest of them as far as Ruby knew; she hadn't seen Aurora since that fateful day.

The Pantheon was all but silent. Even Yang's grandmother. Ruby still didn't quite know how to feel about Cinder. Part of her wanted to see her charged and imprisoned for what she'd done, but the other part recognised they'd never be able to hold her.

Cinder had tried to change too. Bereft of the plan for revenge which had consumed the last fifty years of her life, she had floated from place to place before settling down near her daughter. She still wasn't exactly warm, but she was no longer cold either. It must have been hard on her, seeing everyone around her growing older, but it must have been hard for Penny as well. At least she had her father to keep her company.

"I think that's everybody. Oh… I suppose you'll want to hear what I've been up to. Well, you know how last time I said I had a couple of possible sites where Elysion could be? I was right! I managed to find it. Afterwards, a whole team of us went. We managed to excavate so many awesome artefacts. It's so much better than it was before when I was alone… We set up a big dig. It's still going on now. I left it in Sun's hands. Him and his team are keeping the Grimm away. They're very good. I barely needed Crescent Rose. She's still doing ok too. Getting a bit long in the tooth now, but she still work fine. That was why I couldn't come last time. I was in the middle of nowhere in a pit with a paintbrush. It was fun. I wish you could have been with me."

Ruby stopped talking. She really did wish that. With almost her entire heart. The world just hadn't meant it to be. It had torn them apart far too soon. She couldn't quite think what to say. She just knelt there, eyes wet, lamenting what had been lost. The wind rustled the forest behind her.

"Mummy!" The sharp high-pitched cry broke her silent contemplation.

Ruby looked around and her gaze was greeted by the two loves of her life. Dawn pulled against Weiss' restraining hand. Weiss leant down shushed her gently, conscious of Ruby's need for solace, but Ruby had always been weaker when it came to the wants of their daughter. She opened her arms and Weiss let go.

Dawn rushed over, only just managing to keep her balance in her eagerness. Ruby embraced her, cradling her daughter's head against her breast. She loved Weiss with all her heart. Nothing about that had changed, even after the years that had passed. But it paled in comparison to how much she loved Dawn.

If someone had asked her before she would have said it was impossible to love someone so much. It physically hurt to be a part. Even dropping her off at preschool, knowing that she would see her again in a few hours, was agony.

Dawn was perfect, utterly perfect, and ultimately she had come from the darkest moment of Ruby's life. Staring into the glassy eyes of Weiss' severed head she had only wanted to die. For it all to end. She had never managed to rid herself of that sight. Nightmares still haunted her even now.

She hadn't cared as she been handcuffed or hauled away. It had probably been for the best. If her hands were free she dreaded to think what she might have attempted. And she hadn't cared that someone had paid her extortionate bail a few hours later. She'd been in a complete daze.

Roman had met her in reception, his face powdered to hide the burns. She hadn't cared why he was there, or how he had found out about her arrest, or why he had bothered to bail her out in the first place. She had only followed his instructions to sign the appropriate paperwork numbly. She hadn't cared about anything. But she had certainly cared about who'd been waiting in the car for her.

In that moment, after sliding into the backseat, seeing who was sitting next to her, she'd feared that grief had broken her mind. It hadn't been all fear though—despite the screaming—Weiss was worth insanity.

It was only later—after they'd managed to calm her down and convince her she wasn't sharing a ride with a ghost—that they'd explained. Torchwick had put it simply; he wouldn't be in debt to anyone. Neo had nodded her agreement. For thieves and criminals, they had a strange concept of honour.

It had taken a while for her to learn the full story of how Weiss had saved the pair of their lives back in Atlas, paid for their hospital stay, treated them with kindness. Upon hearing of her arrest and subsequent execution, they had both decided to repay the favour.

Apparently it had been easy for them. Though they were probably the only ones who would call breaking the most wanted person in a country out of jail 'easy'. They hadn't just done that though; they had done it in a way that no one was any the wiser. They had made everyone think the execution had been real. They had made her think it was real.

That had apparently been down to Neo. She hadn't said a word, but she had mimed with great enthusiasm all the blood and Weiss' rolling head. Her illusion had been so detailed that even Ruby had been entirely unable to tell the difference between the fallacy and the person she'd loved. There hadn't been a hair out of place.

As far as the Vacuan authorities were concerned, Weiss had been executed and her body buried in full view of thousands. Roman and Neo had saved her life. They'd repaid the debt. Ruby knew that she would never be able to repay them back.

Weiss could have left the city then. With the protection of one of Neo's disguises she could have walked right out of one of the gates. She hadn't. After a night spent in a cheap hotel—where she and Ruby had just clung to each other tightly without a word, marvelling in the miracle—Weiss had persuaded them to help break Winter out as well. Persuaded with a fair bit of money, a reminder that she'd saved  _both_  their lives whereas she had just one—and the promise of another challenge.

From the expression on Winter's face as she was delivered to the hotel, Ruby got an idea what she must have looked like. After the shock, Winter had done her best impression of Yang and tried to break all of her sister's ribs at once.

They had left Alfurat that same day and, after making it to an SDC facility, were back in Atlas a short while later, intent to reclaim what had been stolen from them. Ruby had been nervous about that. Both Weiss and Winter had been furious as they read what had happened in their captivity.

Ruby had tried to make Weiss give her word not to hurt anyone. She hadn't given it. She had only promised that she'd changed. That everything would be ok.

Along with Winter and flanked by soldiers, Weiss walked straight into the main chambers of Tintagel Castle. The rumours of who'd arrived beat her by mere seconds. With a crown on her head she had thrown open the heavy doors right in the middle of the debate to find her successor, interrupting Coco as she listed her own virtues. Even if then Ruby had been terrified of what would happen, the shock on everyone's faces could make her smile now. Only Weiss would think to walk in on what amounted to her own memorial service.

Weiss had taken her position at the lectern, brushing the disbelieving Coco off the stage, and looked out at all those who had betrayed her. The nobles. The politicians. The business leaders. Most of whom had sworn their loyalty. Few dared to look back. With the soldiers around the walls they all knew the motto of the Schnees. They all knew they had played the game and lost.

In that moment, as Weiss regarded them, the world changed. Ruby was proud to say she had been right there. That she was in the photos. The video. Instead of threats and bullets, Weiss had delivered what was widely regarded as the best orated speech in living memory. It hadn't been written down and planned. She'd given it off the top of her head.

It was while listening to the rising and falling of Weiss' voice, that Ruby knew she'd made the right choice in loving her. Weiss had spoken of many things: of prejudice, discrimination, and racism; of hate and the blight it was on the world; of the innocence of every civilian who deserved so much more from those meant to serve them; of the fight against an overpowering desire for vengeance, she spoke from experience there, while spilling herself and her guilt into the room of captured listeners; and Weiss had spoken of her own repentance, and her desire to right her past wrongs.

She had spoken uninterrupted for hours, and not one person left. In fact, by the time she had finished, the room was filled to bursting. By the end there had been tears on Weiss' face, but steel in her spine.

Her words had lain down decrees that stood until this day. The laws she had passed were revered for their fairness. Her first act had been to return Atlas to a monarchy and ratify herself at its head.

Her second had been to release all the political prisoners that had been held across Atlas. Not only those whose only crime had been speaking out against her, but even those who had done more. They were freed and pardoned by her royal authority.

The forces under her command were mobilised. The fledgling war between Vale and Vacuo was halted by the threat of Atlesian firepower. Many had expected her to order her forces onwards towards Alfurat and those who wronged her so badly. She hadn't. Even before they had found out the truth of Badr's identity from Yang and Blake, Weiss forgave Vacuo. She forgave the people who had cheered for her execution and all those who'd had a hand in organising it.

Instead of war, she had offered them peace and assistance. The Quadripartite Agreement she'd made in the following weeks still stood. In each country a union of forces battled against Grimm. No one stood alone any longer, and they could achieve so much more together. With all their combined skills and knowledge, with the Dust from the Schnee quarries, the world had never been safer. Valesh soldiers saved Vacuan civilians, Mistralis took tours at the Atlesian Wall, and Vacuan soldiers fought in the jungles of Mistral. The world was united.

Not content with declaring a monarchy, Weiss had torn down the original Atlesian Council. For too long the three members had only been mouthpieces of the Great Houses. They didn't speak for the common folk. From three the number of Councillors was increased to three hundred. All Atlesian citizens well eligible to run and to vote. The Faunus had been guaranteed a quarter of the seats, enough to veto any bill that would have discriminated against them. In one fell swoop, Weiss had given them a voice. Vale hadn't yet followed suit. They still only had three Councillors, but Ruby knew Blake was going to try and change that.

In that speech, Weiss had changed the world, and for the better. Since that time, as the world began to run more smoothly, she released more and more of her power to the people. These days her role as the queen was almost purely ceremonial. She could still annul any unfair laws that slipped through the cracks, but that was about it.

Ruby preferred it that way. Weiss was still a workaholic, but she had so much more time available for her family. She'd even been with Ruby every step of the way on her expedition to Elysion. She'd been able to take a month out to see her wife's passion for archaeology first-hand.

It was still strange to think of Weiss as her wife. They had been married to much fanfare in the Great Hall of Tintagel Castle. It wasn't perhaps what she would have chosen, but then it was a royal wedding. Tens of thousands of cheering people had lined the streets waiting for them to arrive.

It had been the second happiest day of her life. Yang, Blake, and Penny had been her bridesmaids; Winter, Starling, and Lily were Weiss', and Ayashiel—Lobelia's young daughter—their flower-girl. The toddler had made her way carefully down the aisle, a perfect tribute to a father whose loyalty could only be ended by death at the hands of a god. The ceremony had been truly beautiful, but then she should have expected it when it was the brainchild of Yang and Winter.

It was only fitting that Weiss should know what it was like to have a big sister like Yang. To know what Ruby sometimes suffered through. That was how Yang thought of her sister-in-law these days.

Yang had been given the same gift the rest of them had been, but perhaps Yang had needed it more than most. During a rare night of drinking, Yang had confided in Ruby how she had felt when she'd thought Weiss was dead. What she had done to Weiss in spite.

Yang had had a second chance, and she hadn't wasted it. After that drunken revelation, Yang's greeting of Weiss that first time after her  _resurrection,_ had made a lot more sense. She'd barely said anything, only clutched Weiss to her as if both of their lives depended on it. And then she'd spent the next two months apologising almost nonstop. It had gone on long enough that Weiss had considered flying to another continent just to get away from her. It hadn't mattered how many times Weiss had said she'd forgiven her, Yang hadn't been able to forgive herself. She had made up for it by treating Weiss just how she treated Ruby, and it showed.

Their wedding planners had clashed heads over the details numerous times, but only because they both wanted to make their sisters' special occasion that bit more special. And it had been. At the end of the day Ruby had been the happiest person in the world. In their bed back at the Schnee Estate she'd slept with a queen who was also her wife, even now that was still hot to her. It was beyond her wildest and most childish dreams.

Technically she was the queen consort, and of course Dawn was an actual princess. She looked the part with her long alabaster hair. She would grow up to be staggeringly beautiful, and that wasn't just her motherly bias saying that.

Ruby had never considered having a child with Weiss. Never thought it possible. But medical science had advanced an awfully long way, and for someone with the resources of Weiss, possible was just a technicality.

Dawn was genetically both of theirs. Ruby could see parts of herself in her daughter—mainly the eyes—but she mostly looked like a miniature Weiss. That was fine by her. Weiss was perfect and Dawn doubly so. After several long discussions she and Weiss had decided that she should carry their baby. Their doctor had warned them that the birth would likely be easier on her than on Weiss' petite frame and slender hips.

To feel another life growing within her had been one like no other. Weiss had pampered her constantly and to such an extent if had been an annoying. But she had recognised that Weiss had just wanted to do whatever she could to make it easier.

The birth had been hard, by far the most painful experience of her life, but the result worth it. Their little princess had been born, and both their lives had changed. Between them they were the perfect family.

Before the tombstone, Ruby hugged her daughter to her, and when Weiss came within range she pulled her down as well. She still loved how Weiss squeaked when something unexpected happened, and she also loved her glare. She knew it wouldn't last. They kissed over the top of their daughter's head before finally breaking apart.

"Do you want to tell your grandmother about your painting at preschool?" Ruby asked, setting Dawn off with a rushed speech of everything she could remember about the picture that had pride of place on their mantelpiece.

Ruby still missed her mum, but she knew Summer was up there, watching over everything that was going on. Ruby was so grateful for everything her mum had done for her. Her goal had always been to make the world a better place, both as a hunter and mother. She'd achieved it. That was ultimately the only gift that anyone could leave in their life, to leave the world a better place than they'd found it.

Ruby and Weiss each held one of their daughter's hands and stared off into the forest-filled valley below the cliffs. As they shared their collective warmth and love, they knew it was their turn now.

There was still much to do before they could call this world a utopia. One where all were equal and free to pursue their dreams. Where no one was disadvantaged. That was the ideal. They weren't there yet, but they were on the right path. For the first time in decades, all the peoples of the world were in harmony with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't completely evil. Overall, it was a happy ending just like I'm sure you wanted. They got married. Weiss is a Queen. And Ruby and Weiss even had a daughter (yay science!). Who just happens to be a princess as well. Things are going well for Blake and Yang as well. Blake is continuing her parents' work in a way they would have been proud of.
> 
> I can only thank you for reading all these hundreds of thousands of words. It's beyond anything I would have expected when I started Innocence. I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> The Last Sonata signing off.


End file.
